A Lady's Wait: Untold Story of the Golden Age
by Lady Saffron of Xybria
Summary: Taking place during the reign of High King Peter, King Edmund, Queens Susan & Lucy. Before Lady Vhala became Queen, she was once a princess of an island, far away from alien lands & mainland kings. The Talent of Seeing brought her here. This is her story.
1. Prologue

Lady Vhala paced the room, her heeled footgear clicking softly against the stone floor. The room was sun-lit, with its high vaulting ceilings, wide windows, and balcony that faced the eastern seas. The weather was also pleasant, soft whirls of sea-sweet and forest-green scents mixing with the candle-spice and tapestry-cloth fragrance of the palace.

But despite this warmth and light, she felt cold and closed. She hugged herself, feeling her velvet sleeves rub against her fingers. Her dark green dress and gold girdle about her waist looked splendid, worthy of the noble status she bore. On her brow sat a delicate metal crafted by the best of the smithies: a gentle crown that captured the light of the afternoon sea-sun. Her dark wavy tresses fell past her back, a mass against her neck.

She bit her lip as she passed through the halls, eventually arriving at the throne room. It was a large, cavernous arena where court was held, official businesses discussed, and discord settled. The four thrones sat at the dais, a comfort and steadfast as the four cardinal directions. She herself had been present at many of the court gatherings, sitting amongst the nobility. She wasn't allowed on the dais, of course, unless summoned by the royal four.

But the throne room was empty now. She climbed the several steps that separated the entire court from the thrones. Her form stopped before the throne second to the left. Her hands rested on the arm of the throne where his hands had worn the wooden handle smooth. She could almost feel his touch as her hand lingered on the handle.

A sharp pain emitted from the center of her palm as she drew back. She sank to the floor, resting her head on the seat of the throne. Her eyes rested on the tapestry of the Great Lion, hanging halfway down the hall, the vibrant and heavy portrayal emanating a soft glow.

_Keep faith_, the tapestry seemed to speak to her. The Great Lion's eyes shone, describing both great triumph and immense sorrow. His mane, a golden volume of sun, tresses, and light, waved in the cool sea breeze.

"It's difficult," Vhala whispered to the tapestry. Worry, agony, and fear had gnawed a tear in her heart. Nights were filled with "what-if" dream-mares, of battle-losses, of piercing wails of defeat. She would be shaken awake by the Queens Susan and Lucy. Wordlessly, they would take her in their embraces, sharing the disquieting fear that they dared not speak of. They acknowledged the possibility of the kings' battle-loss, but held tightly to the assurance that this particular quest was issued from the Great Lion himself.

She curled herself into a ball, still sitting at the foot of the throne. Months had passed, but she felt as if was just minutes ago when she had formally said farewell and God-favor to the male monarchs. King Edmund reassured his sisters and the court that he would watch over the High King as he always did. "Have faith," was his adamant creed.

The High King had turned to her last. She thought he wouldn't acknowledge her, for the Queens and the court were present. He had taken her hands in his, a gentle, warm, and comforting pressure around hers. He had leaned down and whispered something in her ear, his week-old beard tickling the sensitive skin. When he pulled away, he placed a kiss on the inside of her palm and curled her fingers over it, closing it. "Keep this for me, until I return."

She stared at the palm as she had so many times since he kissed it.

Sharp blasts of trumpets filled the air. She lifted her head quickly, ears straining. She listened to the melody, to the intended message. When the final note rang through the air, ending with a triad, she quickly got on her feet, bunching her skirts in her hand as she ran to find the Queens.

She found them standing on the balcony facing west, an open bay where already a considerable number of the nobility and soldiers had gathered around the female monarchs. She ran to a stop next to Queen Lucy, following where their gazes rested.

"They're back!!" exclaimed Queen Lucy, jumping up and down with ecstasy. Queen Susan's face was serene, but a curl on the edge of her lips was enough to tell that she was pleased. She lifted her gaze to the skies where two war-hawks landed on the sill of the balcony. They quietly conversed with Queen Susan. Then she lifted her war-bow, thrusting it twice in the air, a sign of jubilation and conquest. The nobility and soldiers roared in exultation. The Narnian armies were now just outside the gates. Below, the crowds' shouts and bellows of welcome echoed through the air. The armies were now close enough to see the holders of the flags on their steeds, the he-Centuars' head-gear gleaming in the light, the dark spots against yellow of the cheetahs, and the metal-clad chests of the rest of the armies.

But the gleaming white unicorn was missing. The familiar tip, the head of the march was gone.

She gasped, holding onto to Queen Lucy's arm. The Queens gasped too, realizing that it was only King Edmund who rode in front of the company. King Edmund waved up at them, his smile wide and sincere.

Her brows furrowed. She glanced at the other soldiers in the march and saw that they too wore the same elated beams as the king. She shook her head. What was happening?

Suddenly, her thoughts drew back to the whispered words of the High King, just before he placed the kiss on her palm.

She gathered her skirts in her hands, the velvet blotting the gathered slickness in her palms. She raced through the palace, down toward back gardens, to the winding path that led toward the forests. The waves of the eastern sea crashed to her right, echoing the beat of her thudding heart. Each breath was a spear to her throat. As her feet carried her over grassy plains, she prayed she was right.

At last, she broke through the tree line, the shadowy embrace of the canopied tree-roofs cooling her burning skin. She slowly walked the familiar path, the path she had dared not set foot on until today. The memories were too painful and fresh, knowing that if she came there in the past, she would never find peace or rest. Her longing would torment her too much.

She came to the small clearing, where a small river ran through. By the water's edge she saw the sun's brilliance reflect off the steed's flanks and flowing mane. She caught her breath: Haereil!

She felt her arms go heavy by her side as she took slow steps toward the unicorn. She could feel her heart rise to her throat: the rider wasn't with the unicorn. She wanted to sink to the forest floor, but an unexplainable tug pulled her toward the steed. She reached him, gently taking his head in her arms. She felt him nuzzle her stomach.

"Where is he?" she whispered, leaning her head against the wide plane of Haeriel's forehead. She clutched at his mane. A sob wanted to escape, but she swallowed it down. She lifted her head and softly patted the steed's forehead. "Did he fight well?" she asked. She expected Haeriel to answer. After all, he was a Narnian, a beast gifted with Speech.

"My Lady," exhaled Haeriel, "Ask him yourself."

"How do you mean?" she stepped back, wondering if the steed was playing. Her eyes caught movement behind Haeriel. She recognized the walk, the swing of his arms, the lifted chin, the glint of golden locks flattened against head with sweat. Most of all, she saw his iron steel-green eyes shimmer as light reflected off his lashes. His lips were curved up in a distant grin.

"He means me," he nodded at her. She felt her breath lock in her throat. She could hardly take a step toward him, as if her feet had grown roots and her dress suddenly weighed ten times than usual. As he drew closer, she could feel her chest flutter. Her lips had gone dry. She barely noticed that she was gaping at him with her jaw dropped to the floor. Very unladylike.

She wanted to shout, jump, celebrate, and throw her arms around him, but she found she couldn't. Stunned by his presence, she had to concentrate to breathe. It was only when he stood directly in front of her and took her hands in his did she feel a bolt of electric fizz run through her.

"You're here!" she whispered, afraid to speak too loud unless he was just a vision, smoke, a trick of the light or the cruel tease powered by her longing for him.

"I told you I'd be waiting here," he drew her closer, pulling her to him. She willingly joined him. He brushed a hand against her cheek, smoothing her hair around her face. "I see you've been running."

"You said to come here," she remembered his whispers. She inched closer to him, the familiar scent of leather, woods, earth, and underlying sliver of eucalyptus wrapped around her nose. This tang, uniquely his, undoubtedly _him_.

"I believe you have something of mine," he smiled, placing his warm hands around her torso. She wrapped her own arms around his waist, feeling muscle and taut firmness beneath his clothes. She registered what he was saying and lifted her right hand to him, palm upwards.

"This," she presented her hand to him. He took it in one hand and placed his lips on the sensitive skin. She softly gasped as she felt his lips' pressure against the center of her hand.

"Now I place it where it belongs," he lowered her hand and faced her. Before she could ask what he meant, he gently held her chin between his thumb and curled forefinger. He lowered his head, his nose brushing against hers. Then he placed his lips over hers. She felt him tenderly apply pressure on her chin with his thumb, softly opening her mouth to him. She didn't need anymore encouragement. She raised both her arms and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him closer to him. His arms encircled her, lifting her up against him as he deepened the kiss. She could taste him inside her, making her dizzy and ecstatic, breathless and weightless. Her hands raked through his hair, her hands holding onto his broad shoulders, her body wanting to melt into his, her legs wrapping around his waist. She pulled back slowly, swallowing large amounts of air. She felt her lips pulse from his kiss. She breathed out a smile at him, placing a hand on his cheek, once and for all convincing that he really was there in her arms.

"High King Peter," she sounded winded. She blushed harder, feeling her cheeks heat up.

"Vhala," he chuckled, wringing a loose lock around his forefinger. "I believe we're past the formalities by now."

She took a deep breath, feeling as if her chest was going to burst from over-happiness, if there was such a thing. "Peter?"

"Yes?" his eyes slid half-shut as he looked at her with tenderness and love.

She pulled him into a fierce embrace. In that lock she poured out all her fears, her worries, all those nights where she would sit up praying for his and armies' safe return, the time she had to act strong in front of the Queens and court, and the stabbing loneliness that nearly drove her beyond reason. Her arms ached, but she ignored the sensation, concentrating only on him.

"It felt like a long time, waiting," she admitted, rubbing her cheek against his muscled shoulder.

She felt him tighten his hold around her, a comforting crushing awareness that almost made it hard for her to breath. She welcomed the discomfort, the pain only reminding her how alive she really felt.

"I love you."

His words washed over her, catching her off guard. She pulled away in surprise, eyes wide. She searched his face, and all she saw was true devotion. She couldn't help but smile. "And I you, Peter. Welcome home."


	2. Chapter 1: Arrival

_How had Vhala come to Narnia? Who was she before she was with the High King?_

_This is her story._

_Her beginnings…_

**Chapter 1**

My brother and cousin were in the throne room. They held court with King Edmund and the Queens Susan and Lucy. The High King was not present in Cair Paravel.

I paced the royal gardens, which was a better place to be than milling around in the cavernous halls with the other nobilities. Court talk was pretty much the same chatter: who would marry who, have the rulers chosen their consorts, and how fortunate to the lady who caught either of the kings' eyes.

I sat on a bench, looking at the piece of sky sandwiched between the high garden walls, which was a ten-foot hedge of pure emerald green, and the tall beech trees that shaded the gardens.

The mainland was stifling, so many things filling up the sky. The mainland was vast, larger, had strange formations such as mountains, lakes, and forests. It was alien.

I was brought up on the island kingdom of Terebinthia, where the skies were as endless as the seas. The skies were as wide and blue as the raging waters below them, and just as tempermental. The skies mirrored the mood of the seas, or sometimes it was the other way around.

On the island I could walk across it or along the shores, the sea always rustling and crashing in the background, reminding me that it was forever there. True there were woods and bodies of water on the island, but not as thick nor numerous as the mainland's.

Being on the mainland was like being thrown into a cupboard, a closet. Closed in from all sides, not knowing where the land would end.

Seas meant escape, freedom, the feeling of openness that was both comforting and dangerous. One had to strike a balance between comfort and danger, never too much of the other.

I brought my knees up to my chin. The last Vision I had disturbed me very much. It was because of these Visions why part of our royal household was currently residing in Cair Paravel, awaiting the arrival of the High King.

Great Albatross! This gift of vision, is both a boon and the means of my end. A boon for ever since this gift was discovered, it has enabled our kingdom to fend off the boil-blooded, long-bearded, and ruthless Calormenes. Long has those hounds of the south tried to make settlement on our island as a means to attack Narnia. Terebinthia was neither friend nor foe to either side, but knew how to avoid escalating future battles. My vision had told me to turn the Calormenes away, no matter how flowery or great their intentions or speeches were.

"I don't want to do this, I never should have pulled Vheleon and Bhoeun into this," I said to myself, frustration building inside. "Marriage, alliances, futures, bah!" I stood up, pulling my skirts with me. "This high king is most probably years beyond my senior, an old man upon his throne, the heavy crown of gold and responsibility upon his brow. Blast those visions! They won't even show me what this high king looks like!"

"Marry an unseen person? Isn't that dangerous?" asked a voice from the depths of the wooded gardens. I spun and tripped over my own heels, the sting of the fall rising from my elbows to my arms. A gasp of pain and surprise escaped me.

The stranger came closer and knelt before me. He was quite handsome, hair of golden sunshine falling until his shoulders. Even in the fading light of the sun and by the already lit torches from the palace, I saw this man had the build of a warrior, wide shoulders, slim waist, but held himself the way a noble would: back straight, head held high but not _too_ high, and a steady gaze. Oh his ice-green gaze never faltered, nor did his warm smile. He held up a hand to me.

Suddenly the many-drilled decorum of court manners kicked in, my actions automatic. I accepted his hand, his other hand slipping around my torso as he helped me up on my feet. I curtsied in the most fluid motion as I could muster, trying to ignore the pain.

"I thank thee," I said in a quiet tone. The feel of his arm, his well-muscled arm around me a few seconds ago had caused a hot flush to rise from my neck to my cheeks. Thank goodness for the dim light.

"Now, milady," continued the noble. "What is this talk of marriage? Be assured, I am of this Narnian court, a close council to their royal highness of Narnia." He offered me his arm, and I took it. He led the way back into the palace. He knew his way very well for we didn't meet any of the other courtiers or nobilities.

"I have a Talent of Seeing," I began. "The Great Albatross bestows such gifts on chosen few, and mine has served to keep our kingdom safe for as long as I can remember. But now a new Vision comes to take me to the mainland, to this kingdom of Narnia, to the High King."

"Has this Great Albatross told you why this gift was given to such a young maiden?" he asked.

"We never ask the will of the Great Albatross. That would be likened to asking the will of your Great Lion," I looked at him. "And I am not as young as you think. I believe I am the same number of summers as your King Edmund, though it was been remarked by all those who have had the pleasure to visit our island kingdom that our folk look as if years do not age us." I shrugged, "Perhaps it's the many sun-shines and sea-salt air that we breathe from all four corners of our kingdom that grants us this youthful countenance."

The noble chuckled, a nice kind of noise that made my stomach lurch in an unexpected way. "I do say, your countenance may deceive indeed, but your words speak truth and years of knowledge. May I know what Vision has brought you to Narnia?"

We arrived at the western entrance to the throne room. I could see my brother, Prince Vheleon of Terebinthia, and my cousin, Duke Bhoeun of Suthbond, speaking with the king and queens.

"The Vision spoke that I leave Terebinthia and align myself with the Narnian High King. I had thought I was saved from ever having to undergo an arranged marriage for I knew my gift was much needed in the court, and Father, the Majestic King of the Island Terebinthia, would not have me married away to any prince or noble so that I may stay in the castle and live out my days as the Visioneer, as they call me," we had just stepped through the open doors and into the brightly-lit throne room. "But it seems that even the Visioneer cannot escape marriage, no matter how distasteful the idea is to her."

"Fear not, milady," smiled the noble. "I can assure you the High King is moral, fair, and not the old man that you think he is."

"Not old?" I snorted. "He's a high king, meaning he _must_ be older than the king and queens that rule under him, no?" Just at that moment, the king and queens, my brother and cousin turned and caught sight of us. Expressions of relief and happiness flooded the fives' faces as they saw us approach.

"Ah, here comes he," said Queen Lucy, smiling. She came forward, hugged the noble and then turned to me, kissing both my cheeks and then embracing me. "We're so happy to have you here, Princess Vhalanease," she pulled away. If suns could shine out of a smile, hers could definitely put the torches in the room to shame.

"I thank you," I performed a deep curtsy. As I lifted my head, my eyes caught Vheleon's, his expression both ecstatic and reprimanding at the same time. I knew my tone sounded unsure and questioning rather than the deep gratitude it should have held. I turned back to Queen Lucy.

"I see you've already met each other," Queen Susan nodded in approval. "It seems your fears are naught, Prince Vheleon," she smiled.

"Perhaps, Queen Susan," Vheleon nodded in reply. As everyone was exchanging happy compliments, it was King Edmund who saw my furrowed brows.

"Princess?" he came forward and took my hand. "Are you well?"

"I don't seem to understand the court's disposition," I looked from the royals to the few nobles and dignitaries that were also in the throne room.

"Your vision, it has become a reality, and we're all pleased that you've accepted," explained King Edmund.

"Accepted? But –" I took three steps away from them, the moths gathering inside my belly. The sensation was likened to the feeling of a host of butterflies flapping against the inside of my belly, but where excitement should have been, it was a feeling of dread and growing alarm. "I haven't even _met_ the High King!"

The royals' expression froze and moved into shocked frowns all at once. Then their eyes moved to the golden-haired noble. I slowly turned to face him, the growing fear now taking hold of my lungs.

"Forgive me, I haven't fully introduced myself. I did not lie: I am part of the close council of the four royals of Narnia, for I _am_ of the four royals of Narnia." He swept into a deep bow, his full height, strength, and form displaying that of power, control and physical prowess in that one fluid motion. "I am High King Peter the Magnificent, Lord of Cair Paravel, Emperor of the Lone Islands…"

I knew he had lengthy and lofty titles, but I didn't hear past the word "islands" when I felt my knees give way and my chest shudder with threatening sobs.

"…she must be shocked…"

"…wouldn't you be?"

"…Peter! That wasn't very royal of you to withhold your identity…" that was Queen Susan.

"…she'll be off it, don't worry, just a bit of food, rest, and air…" that was Vheleon.

I _was_ shocked, and offended that this high king decided to play a trick on me. But the thought that burned into my consciousness and heart, the realization that brought me to the floor and into uncontrollable tears was this: once I met the high king, I would never again be the Princess of Terebinthia.

The vision told this much.


	3. Chapter 2: Dreams of Ice

_**Author's Note:**__ Hello, everyone! First I would like to say my apologies for not updating as planned. Crossing time zones and getting used to a new body-clock is wrecking havoc on my thinking process. That plus having moved back in with family after college, which means back to the basics of "chores-list" and "babysitting baby brother." So please be uber patient with me. Many thanks to all! Cheers!_

**Chapter 2: Dreams of Ice**

_Pain shot from the base of my neck. I coiled my fingers, willing my muscles to move. I let out an exasperated grunt as I tried to lift my arms. A sliver of room for my hands to move was all I got. I opened my mouth to scream but my breath soon turned into steam and vapor. I couldn't see anything, but I felt it._

_Millions of needles, tiny sharp incisors, clawing at my skin; I began searching my memory, asking how I had gotten there, but all I received was darkness, cold, and pain._

_Who was I?_

_Even that question I didn't know the answer to._

_I could feel the prickly sensation of tears forming at the corners of my eyes. _

_Frustration! _

_Clenching my hands into fists, I put all my strength forward, pushing forward, not caring what was ahead, but only knowing I wanted out._

_OUT!_

_Harsh air rushed at me as my arms surged forward, pulling myself up into a sitting position. My lungs expanded, filling with strange, bitter-tasting air. _

_Then heat._

_I felt my perspiration rising, an uncomfortable and foreign feeling to me. I slapped at my neck and face, feeling the moisture, feeling annoyed by it, not understanding it. My hands grazed over my hair and felt the ice chips settled there, slowly melting into tiny rivers into the strands._

_Finally, I gingerly peeled my eyelids over my eyes, willing them to rise. Though the room was dim, the slight presence of light stung like hornets. I gasped and coughed, surprised by the new sensations bombarding me all at once. My chest heaved with the strange oxygen, bringing pain with every breath. My head swam and tumbled, unable to comprehend what was happening. _

_Then I heard something. Shuffling and urgent, in front, then it was all around me. Fear gripped me, another new feeling that made me dizzy. I felt like I was being flopped about, like a solitary leaf on turbulent white waters. _

_At first I didn't grasp what the sounds meant, then suddenly, the words came sharp and clear to my unused hearing._

_"…Princess Vhalanaese, you've awakened at last!"_

_

* * *

_Hands grabbed at my shoulders and I forced my eyes open. The room was unfamiliar. I turned to the owner of the arms.

"Are you alright?" asked the young woman, her golden brown hair glistening in the early morning sun. I searched her face, recognition suddenly swallowing me.

"Queen Lucy," I remembered. I pulled myself up into a sitting position, the coldness of the dream still lingering. "Cair Paravel," I looked at my surroundings. Then I hugged my knees. "Only a dream…"

"What was it that caused you to scream?" she asked. I looked up at her again, and then scanned the room. From the door I could tell servants lingered, but didn't enter unless summoned. I turned back to the queen.

"I apologize, your majesty," I gasped. "I didn't mean to stir a hullaballoo."

"Your hands are ice!" she took my hands and started rubbing them together. "What did you see? Was it a vision?"

I stared at the queen for a while, my thoughts retreating to the dream. Yes, it was a vision, a possible future if ever Jadis the White Queen returned. But she was dead, defeated, according to the tales the four royals told of at the Battle of Beruna. She can't be alive! And yet the ice coffin is a place I could very well be trapped in if events swung into that direction…

"Just a bad dream," I smiled at the queen. "Perhaps dinner didn't agree with me the night before."

"You didn't eat dinner, princess," said the queen in a worried tone. I hadn't eaten? "After Peter did that stunt of his, you promptly fainted. He can be such a jokester, but there are times when he goes overboard. Sometimes I think Edmund is the elder between those two," laughed the queen. She stroked my arm in sisterly-fashion.

"Perhaps it was the lack of food that made me dream so horribly," I tried to laugh but it came out as a croak.

"Then breakfast we shall do," stood the queen, helping me out of bed. "Come, we shall eat at our private dining hall." When I didn't follow, she turned and noticed my anxious expression. "Fear not, the kings are out riding. They left before dawn."

"Oh," I let out a held breath. Queen Lucy hooked her arm in mine and started leading me down to their quarters of the castle.

"Don't worry, I'd probably not be able to stomach my food if Peter was around and I was in your place."

The rising sun and activities did much to distract me from my dream. Queen Lucy formally introduced me to the court of Cair Paravel, strolling through the castle and outside fields where the inhabitants and subjects greeted us as we passed.

We soon met up with Queen Susan, who was performing archery stunts with a few he-Centaurs in front of a small crowd. It was indeed a sight to behold, the queen an expert bows-woman. The queen caught sight of us and approached us.

"Good to see you in better color, princess," smiled the queen. I bowed in reply. "What weapon do you wield?"

"Weapon, your majesty?" I repeated, confused.

"There is a saying in Narnia: _those who wield the sword could still die by them_. Even women should have the skill to defend themselves," explained Queen Susan.

"I lived on an island nation, where natural enemies would have to cross the seas to get to our land. By then the enemies would already be half-defeated by the seas alone. Women were not taught to use weapons, only the men," I said.

"If you would so agree, we could teach you," offered Queen Lucy, producing her sleek dagger hidden in the folds of her skirt. "Just in case."

"We're not suggesting that any harm will come to you," put in Queen Susan. "It's just that everyone here has the skill to defend themselves. It's the best defense we have," she smiled.

"Then…" I nodded, "I agree." The queens smiled back. Then the thunder of hooves could be heard across the fields. We turned and saw it was the kings riding back from their excursion, along with a party of three centaurs, a few large cats and foxes.

"Well," said Queen Susan, shading her eyes from the sun, "there's a bear you'd need to defend yourself against." She turned and looked at me, raising a brow. "The way he deceived you last night calls for a sort of payment. Don't you agree, sister?" she turned to Queen Lucy.

"Most definitely," nodded Queen Susan.

My own gaze rested on the high king upon his white unicorn. I needed a defense, indeed.


	4. Chapter 3: Mirrors

_**Author's Note: **__Hello, one and all! I know, I know…long time no updates and I apologize profusely. Aside from being shipped off into the woods (literally) for two months and then board exams and then moving across countries by air, and then… finally finishing my first __The Chronicles of Narnia__fan-fiction __Susan's POV__, (hope you guys read that one also!) I finally swing back and rekindle this fan-fiction. _

_Whew, long intro! _

_A hearty shout-out to those who've read these short chappies. Hi, hello, and welcome! I also appreciate reviews from you, dear readers. Please feel free to post your thoughts: the good, the bad, the beautiful, or the ugly, but PLEASE! Be nice and constructive. I believe that is a place of learning, growing, and honing our skills as writers and future authors._

_Keep the faith!_

_Cheers!_

_Xoxo, LSoX_

_PS. As I promised in my last fan-fic, I'd inform you what "background music" I listened to while writing. To this chapter it's OST CoN: LWW __From Western Wood to Beaversdam._

_PPS. My inspirations are from C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien, and many other books I've read throughout my life. Special mentions will be done. Cheers!_

**Chapter 3: Mirrors**

I had Mother's nose. It wasn't too sharp or too blunt. It was just of middle height, a perfect fit for my face. I had a wide forehead, or that's what Vheleon always teased me about. And my chin, he always playfully grabbed at it whenever he wanted my full and undivided attention. He said my cheekbones were too wide as well.

I suppose it was a big brother's job to torment his sister. I had always run to Mother, asking if what Vhel had said was true, that my forehead and cheeks were too wide, or my chin too pointed, or my nose too sharp. Who would want an ugly princess?

"No, my Kiwi," laughed Mother when I was six years old, calming my fears down and wiping away my tears. Kiwi was one of the island birds that rested upon the shores or palace balconies, beautiful white dove-like birds with golden beaks and blue-tipped wings. "Your face is a heart," she traced my face with her forefingers. "See?"

"But Mahmah," I continued to cry, "Vhel said that my eyes are so pinched together I won't be able to see out of them when I grow older," I shuddered. "Am I going to go blind?"

"Oh, that Vhel!" she chuckled. "Kiwi," she placed me on her lap. "You have your father's eyes. Beautiful, almond-shaped eyes that are the color of the amethyst sunsets. Vhala," she looked at me seriously, "Looks and outward appearances are just the surface. Don't ever use them as yardsticks of measurements of an individual, understand?"

So over the years, I grew to like my physical features.

Father was born a true blooded islander, with olive skin, high cheekbones, and almond-shaped eyes. It was common that islanders had rich dark mahogany hair. Being always under the sun and swimming in the sea contributed to the olive-brown colored skin. Terebinthians were also great athletes, learning how to swim, climb, and run as soon as they were able, learning the seas as well as they knew how to navigate them on fishing boats.

Mother was born on the mainland. Her household was the Kingdom of Archenland. She had fair skin, blonde-red hair that fell to her waist. She had a slim figure, was light and agile. Her people were excellent archers and huntsmen, and had the keenest of eyesight in all the neighboring kingdoms.

Mother and Father's love story was well known by all, and I smile whenever I hear it. But being their child, there's a "shudder-factor" in knowing that the love story you're listening to is that of your parents, so one doesn't really think of it as a love story but rather as a topic you'd rather avoid.

The whole story could be summed up as this: Mother was hunting a white stag and Father was following a strange white bird that was later revealed as the White Albatross. The white stag was heading toward the sea and the White Albatross had flown into the mainland. There was a patch of land where the white stag and White Albatross collided into each other and manifested itself into a Talking Beast. It spoke to Mother and Father and said that their rule as King and Queen of the Island of Terebinthia was close at hand. In later years, it was read by the Seers of the Terebinthian Court that this White Stag and White Albatross were among the many manifestations of what the Mainland Narnians called The Great Lion or Aslan. Mother had known about Aslan for her household was close friends of the Narnians, who found wisdom, guidance, and love from The Great Lion from the East.

From the King and Queen's rule and marriage came Vheleon. He had the Talent of Eloquent Speech, rivaling that of the flowery vocalizations of the power-hungry Calormenes.

It was well known in the island that the mainland nation of Calormen had tried many times in the past to put up their own settlement on our island not only to overthrow us, but also as a means to attack the Mainland Narnians from the seas. We also knew that the Calormenes would use their language to beguile and trick their audiences into thinking one thing when they meant the exact opposite. Such was their mastery and skill over the Art of Speech that caution and vigilance were of the essence when dealing with these wicked-tipped-sword wielders and heavily-spiced perfume wearers.

It was Vheleon who was always at the forefront whenever ambassadors from Calormen came. He not only had the speech to rival theirs, but also the sharp knowledge and ability to discern the smallest difference between two seemingly similar words when in fact it could mean vast dissimilarities when used in context in the sentence.

In short: Calormen was half defeated by the seas, and the other half by Vheleon.

But Vheleon wasn't the sole reason for the island's freedom from Calormen or from any nation that decided to overthrow us.

From the King and Queen of Terebinthia came a second child, a daughter. I, Princess Vhalanaese. With my birth came a strange Talent. Half may call it boon, the other half a curse. But being of the royal house, I had neither the luxury nor time to decide which it was, only that I use this capability for the good of the people and for the salvation of our nation.

It was the Talent of Seeing. I saw things that were, things that are, things that will be… or things that may have not yet come to pass. The old Seers of the Court called me Visioneer, for my Visions were so strong that not only I was able to see them, but the Seers could see them as well. I found comfort in that fact: that I wasn't just conjuring up images within my head and blurting out segmented thoughts. The Seers, having the same Talent but of different extent from mine, saw my Visions, interpreting them for me and the entire Court. It was in these Visions that saved our island from attacks, from half-formed battle plans of the Calormenes, or even from a storm-hurricane that was brewing in the far seas racing toward our shorelines.

From the chance-meeting of a prince of the island and a princess of the mainland came forth a strong and united nation. Their children were both graced with Talents bestowed upon them by the White Albatross. The first born having much of the physical looks of a mainlander while the second born touched with equal mainland and island features.

That was who I saw in the mirror whenever I looked. A girl flowering into womanhood. A girl with dark brown hair streaked with red, and shone cherry-red in the sunlight. A girl with light olive skin. A girl who had almond-shaped eyes with the shade as light as amethyst set against dark lashes. A girl who inherited her father's petite form and her mother's agility. A girl with a strange Talent.

I turned away from my reflection, clenching my hands into fists. It was because of this Talent that I was shipped to the mainland like some root crop for economic trade! How I wanted to throw this Talent away, give it to the first person I saw, and run away.

But no, Talents weren't something one could give up or give away. It was inborn, bestowed…for life.

I also knew the price if a Vision was ignored or acted against. It always found a way to aright itself, bring back the balance. It would always ask for appeasement.

Many years ago, when I was thirteen years old, a Vision came to me. It was of my cousin, Duchess Therine. She was the same age as me, and we were sisters to each other. The Vision showed of a future, the plot of her mother Grand Duchess Irenae, who was sister to Father. Grand Duchess Irenae wanted Therine to be queen, but knew that the title of Queen of Terebinthia would either befall Vhel's wife or if circumstances ever came to it, that I be queen. So Irenae's eyes looked to the west, to the mainland…to Narnia. She saw that there were two kings upon the throne, and decided that if Therine could have just one of those kings look at Therine in favor, Therine would eventually become queen.

I told of this vision to Therine, hoping that in informing her she would save herself from marrying a stranger and find true love. We were well aware that many marriages in the royal family were done out of titles, ranks, and prestige, not for love. We had both promised that we would find love in our marriages.

From my Vision, I knew Irenae would wait until Therine was at least 16 years of age before embarking her on this plan. So on the night before her 16th birthday, Therine bid me farewell and joined our distant family in the south of the island, a band of sea gypsies, who were called the True Islanders amongst themselves. It was there that Therine met a fisher boy whom she fell in love with and married.

The Grand Duchess was furious, and demanded why Therine had done such a thing. I had spoken, saying that Therine deserved a marriage of love not of chess games and pawns. Irenae hated me from that day on. Mother had pulled me aside and warned me that my actions had consequences.

"But Mahmah," I had argued, "These Visions saved Therine from a loveless marriage! How could that be wrong? She's happy with her husband, and will soon become a mother."

"Vhala," she said, looking at me gravely. "You know as well as I that there are many things that go on in the palace that are of dark thoughts and foreboding plans. But this, what you've done," she shook her head. "It's grave indeed."

"I don't understand why you're so worried," I backed away. "Aren't you happy for Therine?" my brows furrowed in confusion.

"Vhala, you and Therine were born in the same year, and in that closeness of arrival, the Seers were divided amongst themselves upon the possible future they saw. Your life and Therine's were so closely intertwined around each other it was difficult to tell you two apart."

"What are you telling me, Mahmah?" I slowly inhaled and exhaled. I didn't like the look on Mother's face at all.

"The Seers foretold that a female of the royal house would be aligned with a noble who would overthrow the reign of the White Witch. This female would bear the title of High Queen, but would also carry the ultimate separation from all whom she loved and knew. Vhala," Mother took my hands in hers. "You know Irenae. She would stop at nothing for power, her lust and crave for it a drug to her. You know that she would even sacrifice Therine in order to fulfill her need for dominance."

"I know, Mahmah," I nodded, recalling the countless times Therine was forced to talk to noblemen or dance at balls until her feet hurt just to make sure she made a good impression on those men. Irenae had that much control over her. Therine was always in tears, saying she was too tired and didn't want to gain the attentions of these men anymore.

Suddenly I remembered a conversation Therine had with me.

"I tire of entertaining these gentlemen," she had scoffed.

"Why does the Grand Duchess make you do it then?" I had asked. We were alone in my room, standing in the balcony that faced a placid sea. I couldn't see anything beyond the lights of the palace, but I knew, in the distant dark, over the waters and far north into the mainland, was a land that had started to fill my Visions.

"She says they're all just for practice," Therine had let out a yawn, stretching.

"Practice for what? She makes it sound like it's some sort of sport," I had laughed, tickled by the idea that Therine was a huntress and the noblemen her game. "What's the real target then?" I joked.

"Either one of the new kings of Mainland Narnia," she said. I stopped in mid-giggle and stared at her.

Mainland Narnia. Those alien lands filled with mountains, forests, rivers, and fields that stretched so vast it ran all the way into the horizon. I had only become familiar with those terms because one I had learned about them in books. The Visions were unfamiliar, and I didn't understand why they plagued my foremost thoughts. Perhaps this was the reason.

"So," I breathed out, looking anxiously at her. "You'll be a queen of Narnia?" I bit my lip.

"That's Mother's goal," she let out a sigh.

"I've seen the mainland, in my Visions," I said slowly.

"What's it like?" asked Therine, grabbing my arm.

"Alien."

My thoughts then returned to the conversation I had with Mother.

"Mahmah, what are you saying?" I asked, panic rising in my voice. "That thing you said that Therine's and my futures were so intertwined?"

"Irenae assumed it was Therine the Seers spoke of. But now, after what you've done, you've made it clear to all which female royal will be sent to the mainland."

The words Mother spoke rang through my memories.

I pulled myself out of my thoughts, a Vision within a Vision.

Mother's words had sounded like a death sentence.

Mainland.

Marriage.

The Fate that would have befallen Therine had shifted to me. What had I done?

I looked back at my reflection. Over the years the Vision grew clearer. It specified which king I was to align myself with. And now here I am. At twenty-two years old, in an alien house many nautical miles away from home.


	5. Chapter 4: Songs

_**Author's Note:**__ I would love to say hello and thank you to the people who "favorited" and put this story on their alert list. Thank you, thank you! Y muchas gracias for the reviews and PM's. Each one is much appreciated._

_Cheers!_

_PS. Background music: __A Brand New Shore__ OST Barbie: The Island Princess. Yes, you read right. The other day I was on baby-sitting duty with a bunch of kiddies, and among the movie lists were a couple of Barbie animated movies. I actually enjoyed watching them: the story line, the music, the songs, and the messages the songs were giving were heartwarming and reminded me of my Barbie-playing days. _

"_Inspiration comes from anywhere and arrives at anytime. It's our duty to recognize it." – Original Jamberry_

_Notes: "Bhoeun" pronounced "Bowen"_

_Disclaimer: Mattel owns Barbie. Jack Lewis owns Narnia. The storyline, Vhel, Vhala, Bhoeun, and the Terebinthian-Galmian cultures are made by me, borrowing and "playing" in Jack's Unfinished Stories of Narnia. _

**Chapter 4: Of Songs**

_Nothing beats a brand new shore_

_Streaming into view_

_After weeks upon the waves_

_The thrill of somewhere new_

_All the riches of the world_

_Can't compare to these_

_Golden sand and silver clouds_

_A fragrant island breeze_

_What will I discover next?_

_It's all a mystery!_

_Different everyday_

_There's so much to do and learn_

_And touch and hear and see_

_Just a step away…_

_Feeling the excitement grow_

_Every single stride_

_Sun above and earth below –_

"Vhel!" I rose and looked at him sharply. "Stop singing!" we were in his assigned quarters sharing breakfast. Bhoeun was still fast asleep. I stepped away from the dining table, walking toward the fireplace.

"There's nothing wrong with my singing," protested Vhel, rising as well and joining me at the hearth.

I faced him. "Vhel, it's _singing_," I emphasized.

"It's a perfectly nice song, a seafarer's song, welcoming adventure and –"

"Vhel," I cut him off. "Don't you see? That's just another thing that I'll have to give up, now that I'm here," I cried, my face growing taut with the frown and held back tears.

"But you can sing here, in Narnia I mean," he laughed. "There's no law against it. Why, the Narnians sing and dance during celebrations! Didn't you hear them last night at the dinner ball?"

I shook my head, sitting down on the nearest couch. "That's not what I _meant_," I clenched my hands into fists and pounded the squishy seat. Vhel knelt before me and held my hands.

"Sister," he began slowly. "Explain yourself so I know what's really bothering you." I shook my head again and furrowed my brows.

"I know you're leaving me here. You and Bhoeun will leave on the next available ship back to the island, my Vision told me such last night" I narrowed my eyes at him, accusing. "I know you must return, but so soon?"

Vhel let out an exhausted sigh, bowed his head in resignation, and then nodded. He faced me. There was so much sadness in his eyes it almost made me forget my anger.

"Things have gotten worse at home," began Vhel. "With both of us off the island, the Calormenes have a chance at invading. Now that you and your Visions are here in Narnian, we have to depend on the Court Seers. Their Sight is great, but yours was without a doubt the better one. You see farther into the future."

"Yes," I moved off the couch and joined him on the floor. "My Visions have seen what's happening at home. Paphi is ill," I rested my chin on my knees. Father had looked so weak in my Vision. "He knows his time is nearing…and Mahmah," I shook. "She wants to return to Archenland."

"You understand why I must return," he scooted closer and drew me into a sidelong embrace.

"That doesn't mean I have to like it," I nudged his ribs with my elbow. A half-laugh escaped him. "There's a far worse enemy than the Calormenes to protect our island from, Brother," I looked toward the bay windows, which stood wide open. "An enemy much closer to home."

"Grand Duchess Irenae," nodded Vhel. "She wants the throne. Paphi and Mahmah may not be much of a challenge to her anymore. But I will. I will defend our island with the last drop of my blood."

"Don't speak of blood," I grimaced. "I pray that spilling of it on any account won't be close at hand."

"But already our royal house is gaining back strength that has been lost over the months. Your alignment with High King Peter will grant our island protection and aegis from both the Calormenes and Irenae," he assured me.

"Can't you find some princess in the mainland to marry and get her kingdom's military aid instead?" I half-joked, half-sulked.

"Now, Vhala, you know marriages are more than just military strength and treaties," Vhel took on his tone, the tone that told me not to overstep on a sensitive topic. "You're just sore you have to marry right away."

"And who wouldn't be?" I moved away and got to my feet. "Marrying a complete stranger, all because of a Vision, and the untimely threat from Calormen and our aunt the Grand Duchess," I let out an annoyed sigh. "Forgive me, Brother, if I'm not singing my heart out with joy and gladness."

"But still sing!" he too stood up. "Sing sad songs, sing a journeyer's song, _any_ song! Just don't stop," he took my hands in his. "Above all, don't stop singing, Vhala. It's in our blood, the very soul of our island on the melodies and airs we create with our voices."

"Singing…" I whispered. It was the way of our people. The island breeze was always filled with music, the very life and heart of our culture. Almost everything was sung; even daily speech carried a tune. But above all, stories were long, lovely compositions, a harmony of singers, woodwinds, stringed instruments, and a steady heart-like beat of island drums. Singing was more than just an art or skill. It was our way of communicating, a way to relay not only information, but the emotion the bearer wished to share with his or her audience. A solemn tune could turn into a jubilant song by just changing one note or setting a quicker beat on the drum.

Just as the seas churn with turmoil one moment and then still and serene the next, our songs mirror the moods of the sea. Just as the ebb and flow of the waves crash onto the beaches, so does our voices: first one voice, then joined by two, then more, until it rises in strength and volume like a high tsunami until it slowly decrescendos as the voices fade out, very much like the way a strong wave loses its might and strength once it hits sandy land.

"Promise me, Vhala," said Vhel, pulling me out of my thoughts, which were miles out at sea. I turned my gaze at him. "Give me your word you won't stop singing. The moment you do, it would be likened to killing off your connection to the island."

"But when I sing, I miss the island even more, making me want to get on the next ship, or if desperation comes to the worst, swim to Terebinthia!"

"You know it's a day's voyage from Cair Paravel to Galma," he began. "And from Galma to Terebinthia a day and a half more. To swim straight from this mainland to our island is not only dangerous – because even our ships don't sail that way – you'd be defeated by the seas before you even reach the island."

"Oh, don't quote geography to me, Vhel," I stepped away. "You know what I meant." Galma. The only other ally our island kingdom had aside for the Merfolk Race. The Isle of Galma was closely intertwined with our island's history. Galmians have long intermarried with Terebinthians, making our nation and theirs not only similar in culture, but excellent seafaring comrades.

We fondly called ourselves the Podium (Galma) and the Plinth (Terebinthia) of the East. It was named such because any other ship that wished to sail beyond our islands would have to pass between our water-territory of responsibility. In a sense, we commanded that area around and between our islands, so that was a tremendous economic, military, and political strength. Since Galma was closer to the mainland, most of those treaties such as the right of passage, trade, and even leisure travel were settled in that island's main city Galaene. It was understood that any treaty Galma entered, Terebinthia was also included. Our islands might as well have been one nation, but we were not.

"Just promise me this, and I'll sail away happy and content," he repeated his request. I shook away images of maps from my mind and turned to Vhel.

"Alright, I promise I won't stop singing," I rolled my eyes.

"Quite un-queenly of you, doing that," he nodded at my gesture.

"I'm not a queen…yet," I added when Vhel gave me a stern look.

"In any case, the fact that you are here in Cair Paravel has assured the High King. Sailing back with me are a good number of Narnian soldiers to help defend our island, both from the seas and from within," said Vhel.

"So it seems that all this is just a part of a real-life chess game. I wonder what piece I am? A Castle? A Bishop? Too bad they don't have a chess piece of a Princess," I teased.

"Well that would definitely ruin the game," he teased back. "At least you're smiling again," Vhel took my chin between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing it affectionately. Just then, a loud yawn came from the bedchambers. We both turned and saw a hair-tousled, garment-wrinkled cousin rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Hullo! What a night!" Bhoeun stretched, walking barefoot across the carpet toward us. "I never saw so much merrymaking, dancing, and wine in all my life," he drew out another yawn. "Did I miss anything this morning?"

"No, Cousin," I smiled. "Vhel and I were just singing."

"Oh, a song! Which one?" Bhoeun's eyes lightened.

"The song sailors sing when they come into harbor…you know that one," I took his arm and led him to a seat at the dining table.

"Ah, yes! The song the first Terebinthians sang when they saw our island," he clapped happily.

"_Nothing beats a brand new shore_

_Streaming into view_

_After weeks upon the waves_

_The thrill of somewhere new…"_


	6. Chapter 5: Unexpected Company

_**Author's Note:**__ Hello one and all! To be honest I've been putting writing off for a while. My sister and cousin cornered me into reading their stash of pocketbooks, insisting that they were good reads. And you know (in my opinion anyway) the more time I spend with my nose between a book, the less time I have to actually write. But, those moments were not for naught; some good story ideas crept in while reading about the Highlands, Regency, and even Western romances. Yep, that good!_

_So, without further ado…_

_P.S. Background music while writing this: __**James Horner – Pocahontas and John Smith**__ (love his OST scores!)_

_Notes: Tehraea pronounced "Teh-rah". Bintahe pronounced "Bint-a-hai". Tahnah pronounced "Tahn-ah"_

_**Chapter 5: Of Unexpected Company**_

The morning sun was just gaining some of its stinging heat as the ship left the harbor. I bit the inside of my lower lip, trying to stop a sob from taking life. My hands were fists inside my riding cloak.

Vhel and Bhoeun stood tall as they each held their right hand high above their heads in farewell. I stared at their forms until their features were no longer distinct due to the large distance between the ship and land. I stayed on the dock until the ship had completely been swallowed by the horizon.

And I was alone.

But no, I wouldn't let the court or anyone else see me cry. No, I won't shame my court or country by displaying such behavior in front of these foreigners. I hadn't noticed how hard I had bit my lip until I tasted the metal in my mouth. I eased my jaw, parting my lips. The sea stung the cut, making me draw breath so sudden it brought the nearby soldiers who guarded me a step closer.

I turned and faced them, glaring against the now-noon sun and at them. They weren't going to touch me or order me back to the castle! I patiently walked toward my steed, the soldier handing me the reins. As I made to mount I caught sight of a Galmian flag of an image of an anchor waving in the air of one of the ships at bay. That sight alone made me pull at the reigns and squeeze my thighs against the horse's back.

_Away from here!_ I commanded the horse as he tore down the wharf and into the fishing town. I guided him away from the houses, the people, until the scenery that blurred past were all reds, greens, and browns. Fear cropped up inside of me as the horse galloped further inland. Losing sight or sound of the ocean was frightening, but I didn't want to see or hear the waves or crashing roars of the waters.

I didn't know how long I rode or where the horse had taken me. All I knew that I was in thick woods and a body of water glimmered before me. I dismounted, scrubbing at my cheeks with the backs of my hand, my tears having dried against my skin as I rode against the wind.

I clumsily knelt before the water's edge, looking at my reflection before scooping up water to rid the stains from my eyes and cheeks. The coolness on my face cleared my thoughts somewhat, and I stared out at the sight before me.

"What is this!" I cried, anguish echoing in my voice. There were many trees and it bordered the water like a hand gripped around a wrist: too tight for comfort.

"It's a lake," said a voice. I turned, searching for the voice. My eyes rested on my steed. My steed looked at me. Judging from the baritone-ness of the voice, it was a _he_. He was a magnificent mahogany, with a white diamond dab-smack center on his wide forehead. His mane was the color of crème-honey.

"You talk," I gasped, slowly rising to my feet. My crash-course lessons about Narnia had been temporarily forgotten.

Exactly three months ago, when Vhel announced that he, Bhoeun, and I were to make for the mainland while Irenae set on not letting anyone, most especially me off the island, Vhel had insisted that I learned about Narnia in order to prepare myself. The escape had been narrow, the docks heavily guarded with Irenae's troops. With Paphi gravely ill and Mahmah constantly at his side, Irenae announced that she be queen for Vhel was temporarily away on a military expedition in the south – or so she was made to believe. I understood why Vhel wanted me to know Narnian ways, and I too understood why he and Bhoeun had to make haste back to the island: to prevent Irenae to be truly queen.

"Of course I talk," said the horse, pulling me out of my thoughts. He neighed impatiently.

"I beg your forgiveness, good beast," I dipped into a deep curtsey. "I did not mean to offend you. I have forgotten my lessons: Narnians consist not only of beasts that walk on two legs but on fours as well."

He pawed against the earth, throwing his mane back against his shoulders. Was he laughing? _At me?_

"Has Terebinthia no beast that talks?" he half-neighed his speech. So he was laughing.

"Does that thought amuse you, sir?" I sat before him. The horse curled his four legs beneath him and took his seat as well.

"I meant no disrespect, milady," he sobered, catching my expression. "Tell me of your country."

I had to smile at that. "You're the first to say that to me," I admitted. In the three days that I'd been on the mainland, not once had anyone in the royal court or outside of it inquired about my home. They were too busy making plans. Even Queens Susan and Lucy, who had been accommodating on the first day, had turned to their training: Queen Susan with her archers and Queen Lucy with the court alchemist and apothecaries. King Edmund had been the one who informed me that a war was approaching: a renegade tribe was terrorizing the peoples in the Western March and they had to be pushed back. I didn't have to ask about the high king. He was always in conversation with Vhel and Bhoeun, no doubt discussing about me and the situation back home. All I had was the sight of the sea at my balcony window, which made me miss home even more.

"I've forgotten my manners!" the horse shook his mane. "I am Reol of the royal stables. I'm among the gentlest and most disciplined of my brothers and sisters, hence I am mostly given maidens and women of the court to be ridden upon. Such is my good reputation." If he lifted his head with pride any higher, it'd clearly detach from his body. I kept that thought to myself.

"I am Princess Vhalanaese of Terebinthia," I gave him a nod. "Call me Vhala. Friends do. Now," I straightened up. I told him of my island home, of the aquamarine waters that surrounded the nation. I told him of our singing heritage, how many things were sung instead of just merely delivered in speech. We didn't have balls. Instead, we had "sings". The guest of honor, accompanied by a select few, would occupy the stage and sing: sad ballads, happy ventures, or a tale that was so ingrained of our history that the audience sang along, the voices blending in beautifully with the wind instruments and concentrated, precise beats of the drum.

I told him of the animals that inhabited the island. True we had four-legged beasts that helped with the farming, but they didn't speak. The only animals that did were the birds and the sea creatures.

I also talked of the island's geography: the north held the great city of Tehraea, our capital. The seaside palace a white glittering edifice of marble and glass, her windows wide and open to the sea. The village that surrounded her were made of the same material.

"Not wooden?" asked Reol.

"Few trees grow on our island, most of them producing fruit, so we dare not dwindle their numbers to make our abodes," I said. "Besides, the marble and glass, a rich resource of ours, makes beautiful homes, each one a sparkling white jewel in the sun. Tehraea is dubbed Lumos for even at night the material makes our city glow."

Next came Bintahe, the farmlands situated in the middle of our island. The lands fertile and green from abundant rain and rich soil. Most of our livestock and crops come from Bintahe, a great source of economic trade with Galma. Lastly came Tahnah, the southern fishing villages, home of the sea gypsies.

"Sea gypsies?" Reol's ears perked up at the name. "I've heard stories of them. They're greater than our best navigators, tame waters as if they were lapdogs, and predict storms before they even tinge the sky with dark clouds!"

I laughed at his eagerness. "Where did you hear this?"

"Sailors, both Galmian and Narnians," he lowered his head, realizing his over-zealousness. "Is it true then?"

I looked down at my lap, my hands clasped together. "If I am to tell a story, I shall start at the beginning."

"Story! Will you sing as well?" he neighed, excited. He settled down and looked at me, waiting. I gave him a deep nod in response.

"Long ago, a ship sailed upon waters unruly. The people onboard the ship had no land, for land was a prison for them. It didn't sway, move, or change. To be landlocked was the worse punishment. For that they had no need for land. They lived off the bounties of the ocean. The ocean was their home. They called themselves _Benthic_ or Of the Ocean.

"A day came when a sea-monster whirlpool swallowed their ship, pulling them into their watery graves. But the land of the dead was not for them to tread upon yet. The ship emerged scant moments later, in a world that was not their own. Where it had been night before the monster consumed them, it was now day. The air tasted different too. It was still salty, but there was a tang of sweetness to it. And the waters, the Benthic had never seen such clear waters, ocean water that was good enough to drink! And so they did, fishing for meat and drinking the water for sustenance, and each day they grew stronger, learning the seas as they had in their previous world.

"Then the time came when they anchored on an island, and named her _Terebinthia_. Terra for earth, Benthic for ocean, and Tahnah for the southern part of the islands bloomed abundantly of feather-petalled island flowers that we later named Tahnahnease meaning 'flowery' and 'joy'.It resembled the firey color of flames, feels like a feather to the touch," I mused, drawing an image of the flower on the earth below us.

"Feathered-flowers?" repeated Reol. He turned he head so he could see my drawing.

"It's on our flag and coat of arms," I suddenly remembered.

"Feathers on flowers?" Reol shook his mane in confusion.

"It's not feathers," I assured him. "It's called such because it _feels_ like one. Anyway, as I was saying, the Tahnahnease grew at the southern end of the island, easily so because it was close to water, which kept it hydrated."

"Oceans, whirlpools, and feathers…" murmured Reol. "Strange origins indeed."

"Yours was just as strange when I read about them. It was written that your kings and queens come from a different world, not of Narnia," I stated a line from the text.

"Yes, we don't come from here."

Both Reol and I turned. We gained our feet when we saw it was High King Peter making his way toward us. We both bowed. How long had he been listening to us? I dared to look up and noticed that he was alone save for his horse, which I gathered was Narnian so could therefore speak if he wished to.

"An interesting way of telling your history, Princess Vhalanaese, I could hear a song underneath your words," mused the king as he sat down on a nearby log. I noticed his horse didn't have a saddle or reins.

"It's how we were taught to speak if we don't use song to carry our message, your highness," I kept my eyes to the earth, to the drawing of the Tahnahnease.

"I quite enjoyed it. It beats having to read the tedious text about your country. I should say the next time I want to learn something about Terebinthia, a Terebinthian should sing about it." I could hear a smile in his voice. I looked, and there was indeed a grin on his lips.

"Terebinthia would be honored," I warmly smiled and curtsied again. The only other time I had been this close to the king was the time he had kept his true identity hidden. Now that I knew who he was, I felt the familiar boil of anger start again. Did he enjoy toying with people's heads? Or was it just mine? I straightened up, lifted my chin at him, and slapped on an annoyed expression. The change must have been alarming for he suddenly stood up and let out a laugh.

"What's this? Your moods are as volatile as a sea storm, milady," he took steps forward until he was a pace away from me.

"I haven't forgotten how you deceived my innocent trust when you failed to tell me your true identity, sir," I said, trying to keep the hiss out of my voice.

"For that I haven't even apologized," he nodded. He bent into a deep bow, sweeping his back hand high as he did so. It was only then that I noticed he wasn't wearing his crown. "I ask for your pardon for my inexcusable behavior, which caused you such discomfort and lack of dinner on the night of your arrival."

I couldn't believe his change of moods either. One moment he was laughing and praising, the next he was bent so low and sounded so sincere with his apology I wondered if I was looking at the same person. Reol nudged my back. Only then did I regain my voice.

"Forgiven, you are," I whispered. When he stood up again, he had the most handsome and welcoming smile on his face I wanted his friendship.

"I would ask one thing of you right now, milady," his face suddenly turned serious. Who was the sea storm now? "That was quite a fright you gave my men down at the wharf, riding off like that."

"I needed some time alone," I defended my action. "I couldn't very well do that with a whole contingent of soldiers, could I?"

"If you need solitude, please do so but within the walls of the castle, or at least with two of my men with you. I would not want to see you harmed, or have to deal with your brother's bellows if he ever finds out," he suddenly broke into a grin. I followed suit.

"Yes, Vhel does have a temper," I sighed. Vhel! I missed him too much already, although it had only been…how long had I been in the woods? The sun wasn't directly above anymore, but dipped toward the west.

"We should head back to the castle. We wouldn't want the queens to miss us during tea time. Now _that's_ a battle I won't win," he walked to his horse. I took Reol's rein and walked next to the king. The woods held enough noise, but the silence between me and the king was a buzz in my ear.

Finally, "I noticed you don't have a saddle or reins on your horse."

"I don't need those," said the king, patting his steed. "Kerr knows the land. Why would I need a rein to guide him? It would be likened to strapping leather on a dolphin in your case."

So, he _had_ been listening. I smiled at that fact. "You're right; that is most absurd. But then why do your men have your horses reined and saddled?"

"Out of formalities sake, really," sighed the king. "Visiting dignitaries and such, just so they won't call us barbaric or uncivilized." Both horses neighed with laughter. I had to smile to that.

"Same on the island. We women don't wear sleeved or full-skirted dress such as this," I gestured to the gown. It was a hue of crimson-garnet, velvet in material. It had a square neckline, the waist tapered in a v, a simple gold chain-belt hung across my hips. "Or shoes like these," I stuck one foot out to peek at the matching ballet-flat shoes. "No, our shoulders are usually bare, the skirt hemlines up to our knees, and our footwear that of simple leather sandals. No corsets, not laces, no strings!"

"Sounds like freedom."

I turned to look at the king's face, and he looked as if he were imaging what I was describing.

"It is," I sighed. "We could run, skip, jump, and best of all, play in the surf! Our hair unbound and whipping across our faces as the whim of the wind…"

The silence engulfed us once again, each lost in similar thoughts of sea breezes and wet, crunchy sand underfoot. Suddenly my thoughts turned to the word Reol had taught me earlier, and I spat it out like vinegar. "Lake."

"What was that?" asked the king. I had been so consumed with my thoughts I didn't realize how close the king was! His left arm brushed lightly against my right arm as we walked. He was clearly a head taller than me. It was then I noticed he was simply wearing a white long-sleeved shirt that was unbuttoned till his waist, and brown riding pants and boots. So informal for a high king, wasn't it?

"Lake," I repeated. "That dead, stagnant, unmoving piece of water back there," I nodded from the direction we had come from.

"Dead? Hardly. Perhaps stagnant, but not really," he said. He didn't make any sense! Or I didn't understand him.

"It shouldn't be so!" I turned and faced him. "Water should move, flow, and carry life! It should ripple, ebb…and find its way to the sea, not...not…," I couldn't find the right words to describe what I felt. Then it came. "Landlocked!" as soon as I said the word I shivered out of fear. Then I remembered where I was: in a place full of trees stretching for miles all around, their leaves and branches blocking out the skies and sun, and the earth dull and unmoving. I was landlocked! Just like that lake!

I took off at a run, not knowing where I was going only that I needed to see the sea, the open skies, space! I felt the forest's fingers lash out at me, their fallen branches scraping at my legs. I tripped over an unseen rock, my front stung and the wind pushed out of my lungs as I crashed.

"Vhala!" came the king's voice as he turned me on my back. I wheezed through what seemed like a cinch at my throat. The king tilted my chin up from where I lay. Suddenly it seemed easier to breathe. I felt tears wet my eyes, and then the sob I had denied the time Vhel's ship left the harbor came out with a vengeance for a second time. I bawled, crying out for Mahmah, Paphi, and Vhel. The king helped me up into a sitting positing and took me in his arms, rubbing my back, but never did he shush me. My words were broken, the song gone from my speech. I must have sounded crazy to him, my voice riddled with tears. When I had quieted down, I slowly pulled away.

"I got your sleeve wet," I slightly turned away, embarrassed.

"You're right," he nodded. I made to get up but he held me fast by the shoulders. "You're not alone."

"Excuse me?" my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What did that have to do with his sleeve?

"Vhel explained the Vision to me that you were sent here to marry me, to live in a strange land, and to leave all you knew and loved behind. Don't think you're alone, Vhala," he touched a hand to my cheek, soft, light. "We could be friends."

"But the Vision, the marriage…" I trailed off, my lips turning dry.

"Your Vision said there is to be a marriage, but did it have an intended time?" he asked. My eyes narrowed as I looked within, at the memory of the Vision.

"No," I shook my head. I then understood what he was telling me. "You won't force me to marry you," I broke into a wide smile. The muscles on my face eased after days of frowning and crying.

"I don't wish that on anyone, not my brother, my sisters, or you," he said. He took my hand and gave it a squeeze. "I would very much like to be your friend, Vhala. Will you let me?"

I stared down at our clasped hands. I was so happy with this new turn of events I nearly forgot to answer his question.

"Yes, high king, I accept your friendship," I laughed. He then shook his head. I tilted mine in confusion. He then took my chin between his curled forefinger and thumb.

"It's Peter, just Peter," he squeezed my chin.


	7. Chapter 6: Stories

_**Author's Note: **__Thanks for reading and reviewing! Now, for the calm before the storm._

_Background music: __**James Horner – An Apparition in the Fields **_

_**Chapter 6: Of Stories**_

We made it just in time for tea. I could see the relief in the king's face as we ran into the common room that connected the rooms of the four royals. Queen Lucy was already pouring hot liquid into five white-gold exquisitely designed tea cups, King Edmund seated next to her at the circle of seats around the table, and Queen Susan was quietly conversing with a tree dryad near the window. All turned when we made a loud entrance.

"I was about to have the whole forest search for you, brother," teased Queen Susan, nodding her thanks to the Narnian, who gently pulled apart and revealed to be a thousand tree leaves instead of the person I thought she was. I felt the king take my elbow, leading me to a seat between him and Queen Lucy.

"We beg your pardon for our delay," said King Peter, whose smile was so wide it made him look like a school boy who had just discovered he had sweet cakes for snack. "We had the most interesting conversations."

"Of what?" asked Queen Lucy, looking up.

"Island and mainland differences," continued King Peter, helping himself to biscuits.

"You must forgive us," came Queen Susan, taking her seat between Queen Lucy and King Edmund. "We have been so consumed with preparing in moving the first lines of soldiers to the Western March we've neglected our duties to you, Princess Vhalanaese."

"I understand your situation," I bowed. True, the first two days I felt ignored, but I pushed myself into thinking if I were in their shoes, I'd certainly put my mind toward the problem in the west instead of a visiting dignitary. No, not a visiting dignitary, a soon-sister-to-be. "I would have done the same if I were in the situation, except it would have been the Calormenes in my mind not the Wilderness Men of the Western March."

"We've got this splendid afternoon all to ourselves," King Edmund said through a mouthful of scones. Queen Susan shook her head at him.

"Must you talk with your mouth full, _King_ Edmund?" she teased. King Edmund followed his chewing with a gulp of his tea, washing it all down.

"We shall hear of Terebinthia," he nodded. Queen Lucy clapped in agreement.

"No," King Peter said suddenly. I turned to him, his denial a confusion to me, but I saw his smile. "Vhala shall sing to us about Terebinthia. But before doing so," he held up a finger, "I will re-insist that you call me Peter. As for the rest of my brother and sisters, you must call them Edmund, Susan,and Lucy."

"Please do so," Queen Lucy took hold of my hand closest to her, which was my right hand. "We're among friends, soon to be family."

I stiffened at the last part of the sentence, but quickly hid that with a light laugh. "I will," nodded my agreement. "Now, then," and I recounted the tale of how the first Benthic came to land on Terebinthia. Also of the flora and fauna of our island, and of our close relations to the Galmians and Merfolk.

By the end of the half-song half-story, the sun was already below the horizon, the skies tinged with orange and blue. All seemed to be in a trance. Edmund was the first to break out of it.

"This place where you came out from the sea," he began. "Due east of Terebinthia?"

"It's a way out, way past the Lone Islands," I nodded. "Grandmah called it A Chink, or a link between our old world and this world. Am I safe to conclude that my people and you could have originated from the same world?"

"It's possible," mused Susan. "From what our tutors and professors tell us, Narnians consist of the nine Talking Beasts and other Dumb Beasts. Humans, or Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve do not have roots in Narnia."

"Tell us more about you," requested Lucy. I turned to her and smiled. There was something in her that reminded me of Mahmah. I then softly sighed, naming the trait they both held: a thirst for knowledge, going beyond the known and reaching for the unfamiliar.

"What would you like to know?"

I told them of my childhood with my parents and Vhel. I told them of my love for the ocean, how I would run along the shore with my brother and cousins Bhoeun and Therine, collecting seashells until Vhel's and Bhoeun's pockets burst and Therine's and my skirt could hold no more. I told of the spring mornings at the palace, welcoming our kin from Galma, of the summer days living in the fishing village of Tehraea with the people, of the early fall months I spent in Bentahe, the farmlands and fields bowing with harvest, of the winter days spent at the warm south with Grandmah and her sea gypsies.

"Sea gypsies!" exclaimed Lucy, reminding me much of the reaction Reol had earlier that day.

"There may be a fairytale-ish aura to them, but they're still people," I began. "A third of the island believes we should all live in peace, while another third believe the sea gypsies are the true kings of the island," I said with a tinge of sadness in my voice. There were those who wished a civil war would end this dispute. But a divided nation against an invading one would die, so many chose to put aside the politics to first fend off the mainland brutes of Calormen.

"What of the remaining third?" asked Edmund when I didn't continue.

"The farmers rarely dabble in political arguments. They're more interested in their crops and harvests, and I don't blame them," I said, a shimmery Vision of the golden wheat fields and corn waving in the afternoon sun played before my eyes. I heard Susan and Lucy gasp in surprise as they too saw the Vision play for all of us to see. It showed Terebinthia the way I remembered her. There was the glittering palace of Tehraea and her surrounding fishing villages. Then came Tahnah and her southern ports, with the blue and green-cloth-clad people walking barefoot across the beach.

"Grandmah is a sea gypsy," I whispered as the Vision of my dear grandmother came into focus. "She's among the tribe leaders of the gypsies."

"That would make her Queen Mother, then?" asked Lucy in a hushed whisper.

"It did, one time, but not now." I didn't need to see their confused faces. The Vision changed. It was a scene years before Vhel and I was born. It was in the throne room in our palace in Tehraea. There stood Paphi and Mahmah, having just been married. Beside Paphi were Grandmah and Grandphi. Then there was Grand Duchess Iranae with her husband. Iranea was furious with the marriage between Paphi and Mahmah, saying that outsiders shouldn't be allowed on the island, and the wedding between a Terebinthian and Archenlander was an outrage. Iranea believed that she and her husband (who was a Terebinthian) should have the throne instead because of this. Grandphi wouldn't hear any of it, and told Iranea if she was to question his authority again he would disown her. Grandmah didn't want such an event to occur, and pleaded for Iranae's case, but Iranea, being as stubborn as Grandphi didn't want Grandmah's help. Grandphi was furious with Iranae's conduct with Grandmah that he banished her from Tehraea, leaving Bentahe and Tahnah the only places she could go to. Grandmah was devastated: her husband having banished her daughter was a pain she didn't want to bear. With Grandphi's permission, she retreated to Tahnah, to her origins, to the seaside village she grew up in, and renounced her title as Queen of Terebinthia.

When the Vision of the past evaporated between us, I felt their eyes on me.

"I'm so sorry," whispered Lucy. She held my hand in hers and I squeezed back in return.

"Be not. Our family is fine now. Grandphi died a year after Vhel was born. He understood Grandmah's decision, and for the love he had for her, he didn't countermand it. He never did reconcile with Iranea. On the eve of my birth, Iranea returned to Tehraea, also with child. She was granted access because the Court Seers had seen a Vision that my birth heralded a reunion between our family and Iranea. And so it was: Therine and I came into the world and grew up as sisters. Our court was peaceful, and everyone was happy. The Vision had come true," and a Vision of me and Therine braiding each other's hairs while we sat on a shared blanket on the beach played before us. "We thought peace would last, but Iranea had other plans. Upon our birth came a prophecy that one of us would marry a mainland king, and Iranea assumed it would be Therine. She thought it a perfect occurrence, for such an event would gain her the throne, overthrow Paphi and Mahmah for the insult of having a foreign queen."

"It would be you," said Peter. I dared not look at him, but concentrated on the Vision before us, playing it at the part where I told Therine of my Vision and helped her escape.

"It would have been Therine if I hadn't spoken. No, the Vision wasn't clear, for the Court Seers don't see that far into the future. Iranea would have done all in her power to assure Therine was the one. But I broke all that, and in doing so, I pay the price Therine would have had to. I stand where she would have stood." I hung my head. Unwittingly, a Vision of Therine, beautiful, radiant, and laughing. I stole a glance at Peter. Would he have chosen Therine? His would-be-bride if I hadn't interfered? The next Vision shifted to Therine and her husband, both holding her pregnant belly.

"But you saved her," said Edmund, waving at the Vision. "She happy!" at that moment the Vision came with her sound of laughter echoing across the air.

"Are you?" asked Peter quietly. I didn't speak for a while. Was I happy? I caught a look at Therine's content look then continued.

"True I can see farther into the future than our Court Seers, but I didn't see this far, that I would be in Therine's stead here in Cair Paravel." I saw Peter move slightly away from me. He must think I hate it here! Why wouldn't he? Every act of contempt or anger or cry the others were able to hear and see from me would think I'd want nothing to do with King Peter, Cair Paravel, or marriage. Vhel explained it all as my being homesick. Now Vhel wasn't here to explain anything on my behalf. I was alone.

"But," I parted my lips and drew breath. "It was only on when I was discussing this matter with Grandmah that I was able to see clearly: no matter what Iranea would have done or said, _I_ was the intended one to come to Narnia. I have no inkling as to what the Great Albatross has planned for me, but I will follow it, even if it hurts, even if it pulls me away from everything I know and love." I faced the royals and held their gazes. "I am glad to be here in Narnia. You've shown me that I am indeed among friends, and that free will," I turned to Peter as I said that, "is a value held high in your land. So yes, King Peter, to answer your question, I am happy."

At that precise moment, a Vision of a wedding shimmered before us. But it wasn't mine or Peters, or Lucy's or Susan's but of Edmund's! We all turned and saw his face getting pink then a deeper shade.

"This Vision of yours, Vhaal, does it come according to your will?" he coughed out.

"It is neither controlled nor unbound. I have the Talent to See but that doesn't mean I see all that there is. You can say the Visions choose when to show themselves," I turned back to the Vision and smiled. "She's beautiful, this bride of yours," I nodded.

"Ed," Susan raised a brow at her brother. "I believe there's something you were going to tell us?" she looked smug as she crossed her arms across her chest.

"Oh, alright! Her names Celuxiza. She's from Archenland, first cousin of King Cor…" and so he told his story of how he met his Lady Celuxiza of Archenland and his intentions to wed her as soon as the war at the west was finished. As we listened, I wondered in my thoughts: could Lady Celuxiza's parents have known Mahmah?


	8. Chapter 7: Settling Fears

_**Author's Note: **__I've looked at several maps of Narnia, and I can say that the location of Terebinthia isn't consistent. On one map she is due north-east of Galma, on others she is due south-east. For the purpose of this fan-fiction, I chose that Terebinthia be due south-east of Galma, therefore coinciding with my story of Galmians inter-marrying with Terebinthians and that population resides in the northern part of the island (Tehraea) while the sea gypsies or "true-Terebinthians" reside in the southern part of the island (Tahnah). The size of Terebinthia is unknown, but it must be somewhat large enough that I decided to divide the island into three parts: Terra, Bentahe, and Tahnah. Being an island nation it should be able to sustain and produce its own crops for importing would be costly, and it needs a means of economy with Galma and the mainland, so that's how I came up with Bentahe. _

_Thank you, social studies!_

_Background music: __**James Horner – Unwilling to stay, unwilling to leave (OST Titanic); Evacuating London – OST TCoN LWW**_

_P.S. Researching on names was a hidden-fun in this._

_**Chapter 7: Of Settling Fears**_

I confined myself to my quarters for the next two days. The Visions came to me so swiftly I didn't have time to prepare myself for the emotions it wrecked through me. It wasn't just one Vision, but two that played before me: one of the past, the other of a possible future. The Visions were like two semi-translucent globes of moving pictures before me.

On my left was a Vision of my past while we were still on Terebinthia. It was the time when Vhel was making hasty preparations to leave for the mainland. We were at Tahnah with Grandmah at her village. I had refused to go with Vhel, stating that I would rather drown in the Chink than marry a stranger. Grandmah then intervened, pulling me out of her wigwam-hut for us to walk along the shore.

"Vhala, don't argue with Vhel," she said quietly. She sounded so tired I was shocked. All my memories of her were of her strong, adamant, and vivid, but now she looked more frail and white-haired than I'd ever seen her.

"I'm sorry, Grandmah, but marriage to a complete stranger is most unsettling," I wrung my hands together. I ignored the sea winds whipping at my hair as we walked.

"You must do as the Vision dictates, Vhala," she stubbornly insisted. I smiled at that, hearing a bit of the conviction I knew she still held in her character. "You must. We never question the Great Albatross, for he is the one who sends these Visions. To deter from these messages will be of dire consequences, my dear." She stopped walking and turned to me. She held my face in her wrinkled hands, a smile shining from her equally wrinkled face. "Do you know how the sea gypsies came to such reputation of being the best on the seas?"

"Visions," I whispered. Grandmah had told me the histories of the sea gypsies. The race was gifted with Visioneers, the secret to how they read the seas and landed on the lush island of Terebinthia. But over the years, as the sea gypsies moved north and started intermarrying with our neighbor nation Galma, Visioneers were limited to the villages of Tahnah.

"And you know the Calormenes want to overtake our island, don't you?" she continued, still holding my face in her hands. She did that when she wanted answers out of me, wanting my full concentration on the topic at hand.

"Because of one act of disobedience," I stated. Hundreds of years ago, the then-Prince of Terebinthia Glerhimo saw a Vision of a lady with flowing black hair and brown-tan skin on a lone boat. The Vision told Glerhimo to turn this outsider away, to refuse anything and hear nothing she had to say. But when the day came that Glerhimo came upon the lady, he was so overcome with love he forgot his Vision and took her in as his wife. The royal family back then resided in Tahnah, which was the old capital. People who had the Talent to See demanded that the prince divorce his wife and send her back to Calormen. Glerhimo, angered that his people didn't accept his wife sailed back with her to Calormen where he thought he would have a beautiful life with her. He should have heeded his Visions, for they were plagued with destruction, disease, betrayal, and death. But his love for her blinded him to the truth. Surely enough, his life in Calormen was that of a slave. The Tisroc forcefully demanded Glerhimo foretell what his Visions showed him. That was how the Calormenes found out of the Talent of Seeing of the Terebinthians, and they'd tried to overtake the island ever since.

I understood why Iranea hated the idea of Paphi's marriage to Mahmah. I understood why the sea gypsies limited their contact to Bentahe and Terra. I also understood why Grandmah was making me recall her stories.

"Do not act against what the Visions foretell, Vhala," there was sadness to her voice. "No matter how much it aches, you must go." She drew me into an embrace. "I wish you could stay and live out your life here on the island, but that is not where you path leads, dear one."

"But…" I choked, the tears making their way to my voice. "Grandmah, I'm frightened! If there's one thing I concluded for the stories you've told me, it's that love blinds us from our Visions. I don't want to love a stranger, for I fear I may lose the Talent to See!" I pulled away from Grandmah. Surely she agreed?

"No dear, you misunderstood," she slowly shook her head. "That only happens when you consciously ignore a Vision. Love itself is not bad, nor does it cloud the ability to see a Vision. It's the _choice_ you make that causes the inability for you to see a Vision clearly."

"Prince Glerhimo loved his wife," I shivered.

"But the Vision told him not to go to her, yet he did. His love was there, yes, but it was because of his love that he _chose_ to ignore the Visions. You see, Vhala?" she stroked my hair away from my face. "Love isn't bad."

I held onto her hands like a lifesaver. "Grandmah…how do I love a stranger?" How I envied my cousin Bhoeun at that moment: he was Iranea's husband's nephew, therefore wasn't in line for the throne nor was he bound by arranged marriages. Instead he had the Talent of Sea-Speech, the ability to speak to the whales. How I wish I had that Talent instead, to speak to the Gentle Giants of the Deep and take me away from here.

"You can't," she smiled. I frowned in reply. "You have to know him first, from a stranger to a friend, then from a friend to a lover, that's the only time you'll love him."

"Must I do this?" I suddenly cried, pulling away from her hands.

"You can rant all you want about how you didn't ask for any of this, Vhalanaese," came Grandmah's stern voice. She only ever called me by my full name when she was about to lose her patience. "But that will not change the Visions. The only change will come from your choices. I pray you don't choose the wrong one." She looked very much like a queen at that moment, her chin up, gaze steady, shoulders straight and proud. Gone was the frail old woman. "We lead our people, the burden of responsibility on our shoulders. We do not ask, only that we obey."

"Obey…" I repeated the word like it was a sting of a spicy vegetable I had unwittingly bitten into.

"Did you know," Grandmah's voice turned sweet once again, the bite gone from her tone. "I wanted to call you Saihrinaese when you were born. But the Court Seers told us you were to be called Vhalanaese."

"Saihrinaese," I smiled. Saihri meant song. Naese meant joy. Song-joy. "It sounds beautiful, appropriate even, for our people do sing." Then I turned to my name. "What does my name mean? Mother always said it was in honor of the first queen of Terebinthia."

"Partly so," said Grandmah. We made our way back to her wigwam. "Vhala is an ancient name. It means 'singled-out' or apart." With her explanation I felt even more cut-off, reminding me of where I was to go in the next few hours. "You'll behave yourself, won't you? Don't make this more difficult than it already is. Vhel and Bhoeun won't want to leave you in Narnia, but you must insist on it. Remind Vhel of his duties to his people, and to keep Iranea in her place. That daughter of mine is too headstrong for her own good," Grandmah shook her head.

"I'll behave, Grandmah," I chuckled, recalling past events when we exchanged similar words.

"You won't be Princess of Terebinthia when you leave, nor will you ever be again," her voice shook. It pained me to see her cry. "Love your new family, Vhala." Her voice echoed, grew fainter, then all together the scene of her and the island vanished.

I felt wetness on my cheeks. I wanted to call the Vision back so I could look at Grandmah one more time, but I couldn't. Visions chose when to be seen, not the other way around. It was a double-edged blade: it brought both happiness and sorrow.

I then turned my attention to the second Vision floating at my right. It was of a future. I was in it, and so were the four royals. We were at a great expanse of grass-covered land, with trees all around us but in a wide circle. There was a glade running along one side of the area, its shallow waterfalls tinkling with a melody. A bonfire was in the middle of the circle, with dancing Narnians. I couldn't tell if it was day or night, for the trees' branches and leaves covered the sky. I know I should have felt closed in by the scene, but for some reason, I only felt exhilaration at the beat of the drums, the music, and the giddy-happiness that wrapped around all who were in attendance. What was this place?

I stood up, my thoughts still running inside the Vision. I didn't realize I was already in the hall leading to the north gardens when I felt hands on my shoulders. I gasped in surprise as I pulled my attention away from the Vision and into the present. My hands instinctively covered my mouth to suppress the already-out gasp.

"Lady Vhala," chuckled Peter. I could see he was laughing at my confused state. "Are you lost?"

"In my thoughts, milord," I drew in breath, the Vision disappearing.

I saw Peter clearly now: a man climbing into the height of his manhood. His golden-brown hair was tied in a queue, a week-old beard shading his jaws. But his eyes, his clear ice-green eyes riddled with flecks of grey chips, so steady, so honest, and matching the smile that was on his lips. His lips – _no!_ Not now, Vhala, I scolded myself.

"How are you lost in your thoughts?" he let go of my shoulders, but did so slowly. His hands lingered on my arms until he clasped his hands behind his back. I told him of what I saw in the Vision. "Ah," he nodded. "That place is called the Dancing Lawn. It's where most celebrations and weddings are held."

"Weddings?" I walked around him, wringing my hands. That topic again. My stomach turned queasy whenever it came up.

"Yes," he joined me. He took my hands in his, noticing my actions. "Vhala, I don't want you to be afraid of me."

"I'm not!" I blurted out. "It's not you, it's the idea of being married that scares me," I continued to wring my fingers even as he held my hand. He took my hands apart and held each one in his.

"Is marriage so bad you fear it?" his voice was so gentle, so concerned I was sorry I had to burden him with my fears, fears he didn't have to listen to if he wanted to. But no, he was listening.

"I mean," I pulled my hands away. "My parents had a good marriage, so did my grandparents, it's just…" I turned and continued walking down the hallway. If I could fly away I would! But I had to face this. Grandmah's voice echoed through my mind, and it pushed me to say the next words. "I always thought I'd never be married." I turned and looked at him. He didn't look offended, just curious.

"And why did you think so? Surely you had many offers for marriage back in your kingdom?" he caught up to me and we continued walking down the hall together.

"Yes, but I turned them all away. By being a Visioneer and constantly in the company of the Court Seers, I assumed my fate was with them. Court Seers are unmarried individuals who serve the king and queen, and I thought I'd join them when I was of age," I recalled. "I thought I was safe from marriage, but apparently the very thing I was hiding behind would be the same thing that would thrust me upon the married road," I sighed, hanging my head low. "Forgive me if I make it sound like a walk to the gallows, Peter."

"I don't blame you," he said instead, surprising me. "There was once a time I felt the same way, but not about marriage, about a different matter entirely, but they could be similar."

"What of?" I asked, interest making me turn my body slightly toward him.

"Of being High King."

"But, you're good at what you do! I mean –" I cut myself off. How could I make being a king sound like it was a common job that deserved a 'well-done' compliment? "Your kingdom is wonderful; subjects speak highly of how you reign."

"Yes, well, doubt lurks about. The trick is to let it go. My siblings and I didn't ask to be rulers, yet we were chosen, and for that we cannot turn our backs," he looked at me. "You didn't ask for the Talent to See yet you were given it. The only thing you can do is choose what to do with what you were given: do good or otherwise."

He understands me! He didn't think I was childish for acting the way I was, for fearing a marriage with him.

"I don't want you to be afraid of marriage, Vhala, or of me," he closed the distance between us. He drew his arms around my shoulders and I willingly leaned into him, borrowing his strength as I rested my cheek against his well-muscled chest.

"I don't want to be afraid either," I whispered into his shirt. I thought of the friendship that Grandmah said I was to form with this king. Perhaps it wasn't that bad after all.


	9. Chapter 8: Sweat, Swords and All

_**Author's Note:**__ Another round of babysitting has again kept me from the keyboard. And now, for the much-needed let-out of the chappie that's been brewing while trying to get the kiddies to watch some animated movies._

_Background music:__** James Horner – The Gift of Mortality (OST Bicentennial Man)**_

_**Chapter 8: Of Sweat, Swords and All**_

The next weeks were a whirlwind of laughter and chaos. Especially when I was with Lucy. She reminded much of Therine, and our giggles could be heard echoing through the halls or carried across the fields when we were outside. Queen Susan was training with her archers near the western walls of the castle near the woods. The kings were at the north fields past the thin woods where most of the soldiers trained with them. When Lucy had explained that we were going to venture to the north fields, dread filled me.

She shushed my fear away by saying we were just going to have a peak then return to the castle. We rode on one horse as we made our way to the training grounds. We left our mount by a large rock and inched slowly toward the fields. We heard them before we saw them.

Metal clanged and banged against each other, an ear-grating and shoulder-scrunching-causing sensation that sent me running as far away as I could while covering my ears at the same time. Running was a tricky business for I had skirts to contend with. Luckily I made it back to our hiding place before I even considered falling down.

"Vhala!" came Lucy's call. I shot her a glare as she joined me at the rock we had stopped at earlier. She bit her lower lip trying to swallow her laughter, but she was unsuccessful.

"This was a bad idea," I huffed back, wiping the sweat and loose strands of hair away from my forehead. "Take me away from here now!" I demanded, but it sounded more like a pitiful whine. I hugged my torso, trying to calm my heart, which was whacking against my ribcage, about to burst through my chest.

"You want to learn, don't you?" she asked, her face bright pink with excitement. "It's not that bad, Vhala. They don't only do that in the fields, but they also perform in front of the court for amusement and show."

"Perform? Amusement!" I coughed out the words, incredulous. "Performing is for the arts, not…not…" I stammered, looking for the right word. When none came, I waved my hand at the direction of the clamor. "That display of barbaric exhibition," I shuddered.

"Look, you have to learn how to defend yourself, and the best way to do that is with the soldiers," said Lucy, taking hold of my arms and soothing me. "We'll decide on a less fatiguing method of defense," she nodded. I shook my head at her.

"On the island women were never allowed to watch the men train," I shook. "Our delicate natures can't endure such rigorous active –" I broke off when Lucy started shaking with laughter. "What?"

"Rigorous my foot, Vhala," she fought against her giggles. "You don't believe that women can be just as tough as men?" she raised her eyebrow at me.

"We can be," I sat up straight. "Just in different ways, I suppose." I sounded like a whining child!

"Look at it this way," said Lucy. "Those who don't know how to defend themselves have already lost half the battle."

"What of the other half? There may still be a chance to…" I trailed off when Lucy shook her head at me.

"The other half is just waiting for the enemy to catch up to you. You can prevent that but striking the enemy before he even thinks of pursuing you," she said, a glint of anger in her eyes. "If there's one thing I learned from being queen here is that the world won't play nice just because you do or that you're royalty. You always have to be at the ready, sweat, swords and all."

"Sweat, swords and all?" I repeated, a nervous giggle starting to rise from my stomach. "Is that an idiom here?" when she nodded matter-of-factly I decided not to release my giggle. She might take offense in it.

"Now come! We must talk to the general if he'll agree to one of his soldiers training you," she stood up and tugged at my hand.

"N-now?" I stumbled after her. She did have a strong grip!

"We're here aren't we?" she continued on to the field where the soldiers trained. All had their suits of armor and weapons at hand. There were several circles, and in each circle two soldiers went at each other while the onlookers cheered and shouted suggestions. The roars, clunks of metal against metal, and shuddering cheers filled the late morning air. I kept close to Lucy as we made our way to the general, who I had no idea was. I hunched my shoulders against the totally male ambiance.

I didn't notice we reached our destination until I bumped into Lucy. She turned and smiled at me. She shaded her eyes, looking at a specific circle of Narnians who were cheering on two individuals in the center, swords out and scowls of concentration etched on each other's faces.

"Ah, there's he!" smiled Lucy, pointing to the one of the individuals. "We'll ask Peter when he's done playing with Tadmus."

"_What_?"

I felt my mouth go dry as I followed Lucy's glance. Sure enough, there was Peter charging at a burly Man-headed bull, the bull's black body fur as dark and menacing as the glare Peter sent him.

"_I don't want you to be afraid of marriage, Vhala, or of me."_

His words echoed in my mind, but it disagreed with the sight before me. With his hair sweat-damp, war-frown in place, and muscles bunched along his arm as he swung his sword with force and precision, he looked every inch the seasoned soldier. Gone were the memories of us running through the halls for tea or him calming my fears. He was a warrior with a goal: to win.

"Oh gob, Lucy, please, let's go," I pulled on her arm, my palms going slick with sweat. The ball of tension at the center of my stomach tightened as the crowds around the high king cheered as he gained the upper hand, standing over his opponent with his sword's tip at the fallen one's throat. Then he extended his hand and helped his soldier up.

"They're done, come," and with that she gathered her skirts and made her way down to the men. The ball of tension vibrated within, making me feel dizzy, the wave of nausea taking me. I momentarily swayed on my feet, then steadied.

Suddenly my surroundings shivered like heat waves in the distance. The scene was still quite similar but the skies! It was grey and heavy with smoke and the sun was blood-red against it, like a festering wound opening for a second time.

I heard the shouts and wails of anguish and boulders rained from the heavens. To the east I saw war ships. On the shore I saw heavy contraptions that held the boulders at the ready like a piece of cherry placed at the center of a spoon. To the west I saw dark-skinned, heavy-bearded, wicked-bent swords flashing in the red light. And in the center of it all, Narnians, men, women, children, were sandwiched between the advancing forces on either side.

A loud roaring jet sounded from the mountains. I turned, my eyes stared at the red liquid: a river of blood!

"No!" I screamed, picking up my skirts as I tried with all my strength to distance myself from the oncoming river. But it kept coming closer and closer, ready to consume me in its deathly depths.

My skirts caught under my feet, and I thudded to the ground, my chest and left cheek burning. I saw the shadow of the river on the ground, swallowing up the earth around me. I took a deep breath. Would this death be swift?

Then the sounds came, as if my head was submerged underwater, or the weird hollowness one hears when cupped hands are over the ears. But through that cottoned haziness came another sound. It was like a roar, a shout…a command.

It bellowed again. Then an aching thrust came at the center of my chest. It eased its pressure then pressed even harder. It felt like a mace had clobbered against my ribs.

"Stop!" I pleaded as I lifted my hands up to protect myself. At that same moment hot liquid rushed into my throat and stinging cold air expanded my lungs, making my chest burn even more. I dared to open my eyes, bracing myself to see the ugly black skies or bloody river. Just don't hit my chest again!

Instead I saw soldiers huddled around me. I saw a woman lifting something bright red in a glass container away from me. And another figure was kneeling on my other side. I tried to sit up, inching closer to the woman.

"Are you alright?" she asked, putting the container away and helping me sit up. "You had a nasty fall when you ran. Why did you run, Vhala?" she was staring at the front of my pale peach dress. I looked down and saw a dark bloody smear run along the length and middle of my chest. How did that get there? My hands went to my chest, but I didn't feel any tenderness or pain. I quickly pulled my front open to peek the quickly pressed the material back against me.

No scar.

I then remembered where I was. I turned to the woman.

"The reason women in Terebinthia don't watch men train is because it's not only improper, violence triggers Visions."

"What?" Lucy looked at me like I had grown three sets of arms. "Violence triggers Visions?"

"Am I to understand that you brought her here, Lu?" came Peter's question, voice hard. But I kept my eyes on Lucy. I wanted her to understand.

"The adrenaline, the high emotions, the intensity of the ambiances, it's the fast track for a Vision-spell. The Talent of Seeing is more common in women," I sighed, exhausted from the pain and ugliness of the Vision. "That's how that law about women banned from seeing men training came into being. And singing."

"How does singing come into this?" Lucy grabbed my hand, saying her apologies while bombarding me with questions at the same time.

"Singing is like meditation, a way to release the emotions that would otherwise be pent up inside," I squeezed her hand in return.

"I didn't know!" she cried, her sorry's spilling right after each other.

"It's ok," I soothed her.

"It most certainly is NOT ok," stormed Peter. He ordered Yarnud, a Talking Horse, to take Lucy back to the castle. He then whistled for Haeriel, his white unicorn, the glowing steed gliding through the masses. Peter then scooped me up in his arms, placed me on Haeriel then swung up after me. With a squeeze of his thighs, he ordered the steed toward the castle as well, but took a different route than Yarnud and Lucy.

The silence was eating at me. What was I to say to break up the quiet? I looked at him once then turned away just as quickly, a glower set on his face. I bit the inside of my lower lip, nervousness wrapping around me.

"Peter?" I dared. He didn't look at me, only forward. I looked down, noticing his arms cradling me. Then I noticed something. "Haeriel has reins! I thought you didn't use them on Narnians?"

"During war times we saddle them, during battles, too" he curtly answered. I felt like he whipped me with his attitude. But my anger was stronger than my fear.

"Did I do something wrong?" I demanded, not turning to look at him but glared at his hands, his strong, muscled, calloused, yet gentle – _stop!_ I demanded my train of thought to quit daydreaming. Now wasn't the time!

When he didn't' say anything for the next ten minutes, my irritation snapped. I struggled to get out of his arms and off Haeriel. Only then did he stop the steed and let me jump off. I whirled around and faced him.

"If you're angry at me then say it! No, shout, stomp, whatever, just don't be a statue at me," I shook as I clenched my teeth at him.

"Why were you at the training grounds? When you knew these Vision-spells would occur?" he asked, his voice cool, contained yet held an undercurrent of fury.

"Lucy had a point when she said I should learn how to defend myself, and Susan said that those who die by the sword could still –"

"_Susan said this?_" he raged. I held my ground, lifting my chin at him when really all I wanted to do was let my knees buck beneath me and cry my fear out. But no, I wasn't going to let him blame his sisters.

"I consented!" I shot back. "Everyone's going to war, and I don't want to wait for the enemy to come and get me. At least if I can defend myself, I know I'll defend not only myself but those around me." There, I thought. My voice sounded firm, it didn't quiver or shake. It sounded convincing.

But he wasn't convinced. "A good number of my soldiers will stay to protect the castle."

"That's not what I meant, Peter," I took steadying breaths. "What if there comes a time there are no soldiers, no one around to protect me. I'll find a way to get over this accelerated Vision-spells; I just have to focus on the technique of defense and block out the escalating adrenaline rush and emotions," I nodded, trying to assure myself more than him. It could be done, couldn't it?

"That will never happen," he said harshly. He looked angrier, his feet shoulder-width apart, his hands fists by his side. He looked ready to do battle. "I won't let that happen."

"But you have to think of the possibility that –"

"I won't let that happen because I'll protect you," he said each word evenly and with force.

"You have Narnia to protect before me," I protested. For some reason, his words touched me, but I wasn't going to let him put me before everyone else. "Your responsibility is to them and –" I stopped when he shook his head slowly at me. I let out an annoyed gasp. "What?" I raised my brow at him, my hands going on my hips.

"I place you before Narnia. I will protect you, Vhala," he repeated his promise.

"Before your family? Before your people?" it was my turn to shake my head at him. "You've got things backwards!"

"You're going to be my wife, and it's my responsibility to protect you from all things that will harm you," he took a step closer, his expression softening but still held that frown. I bowed my head, a grimace forming on my face.

So that was it. I looked up at him, willing my voice to remain steady and my eyes not to shed a tear.

"Tell me this, Peter," I began. "If you were not bound to me because of a Vision sent by the White Albatross…" I swallowed air to keep my composure, then continued. "Would you still think the same of me?"

"The Visions are from Aslan," he looked at me, knowing that the White Albatross and the Great Lion were one and the same. "We do his will, we don't question it."

"That's not my point," I whispered, not able to stop the tears from falling but kept my voice calm. "What if there was no Vision, and you were free to wed whomever you so chose to? Would you then make such a promise?" I dreaded his answer. I hadn't wanted to wed a stranger, surely he must have felt the same way? And if I were in Peter's shoes I'd gladly say "no" to this question.

But I slowly realized that after weeks in Cair Paravel, spending afternoons when there was no court to be held or trainings to attend to, I cherished our moments, moments of friendship, laughter, shared thoughts and quiet determinations toward a better future. His words were powerful, but his actions were telling just as much.

He allowed me to walk through the villages surrounding the castle, he always just a few paces away. He listened while I sang to the children who sat around me of stories of the sea. He was patient with my questions, no matter how farfetched or over-backward they seemed. And he jokingly laughed at the ways I described strange features of the mainland such as mountains, fields, deltas, and more.

My hands ached. I looked down as saw they were red from my clutching and wringing them too hard. I held onto my skirt instead.

"I would," he said. I looked up at him, my brows furrowing.

"Excuse me?" I asked, confusion taking hold of me.

"I would still make a promise to protect you." He took steps closer to me. "I've grown rather fond of you, and I won't want anything bad to happen to you."

"_Fond?_" I shrieked. That's a word you used for pets or possessions! Not people. I crossed my arms across my chest, showing my displeasure. He saw my expression and suddenly looked lost. He brought his hand up to rub against his neck, trying to figure this out.

"I know I'm no minstrel when it comes to words…" he began.

"I agree," I continued to frown. He muttered something under his breath. I caught the words "sisters" and "they'd know what to say". I decided to hide my smile.

"Even if there was no Vision, to bind me to you in marriage," he continued. "I'd still choose you."

My half-frown half-smile slipped off my face. What did he just –? I felt lightheaded, slightly dizzy too.

"But you don't love me."

I gasped in horror when I realized I'd blurted that out. Oh no, now I just mucked it all up!

"I mean…" my hands fluttered to my chest, trying to ward off the embarrassing, hot flush that was rising from my neck to my cheeks. "You would ch-choose me because of fondness n-not love, of course not love!" I rushed, a half-hearted, nervous laugh escaping me.

How many times in the past had I heard Vhel turn women away the moment they said "love" in a sentence and he was the object of their desire. He had ranted to me that at those moments he had felt trapped, obligated, and a prisoner. Oh gob, I didn't want Peter to feel the same fear Vhel felt! Not now when a war was approaching.

"Forget I mentioned anything," I added, backing away, but he kept trying to minimize the distance between us. Shouldn't he be going the other way? _Turn around!_ I silently ordered him. He just kept coming forward until he caught me by the waist, pulling me close to him.

"What did you say?" he softly asked, his hold warm and comforting.

My mouth formed the words it wanted to say but my voice wouldn't sound. I was surprised by my next action. I wrapped my arms around his torso and pressed myself against him. He hugged me in return, resting his chin on my head as he did so. Then I found my voice.

"Fond is fine with me," I said. I felt him shake his head, his chin moving from left to right on top of my head.

"I believe you said another word quite entirely," he teased. I held on tighter, squeezing my eyes shut.

"I'm not ready to speak of it," I lied. "I was foolish to mention such an audacious thought. I'm sorry," I whispered into his chest. We didn't speak for a while.

"Vhala?"

"Hm?" I pulled my cheek away from his chest to look up at him. He gazed down at me with half-lidded eyes, a smile at the edges of his lips.

"Will you still allow me to protect you?"

His question caught me off-guard. I answered him, half dazed. "Yes," I nodded. He placed a kiss on my forehead.

"One more thing."

"What's that?" I pulled away. I prayed it wasn't about love. No, he needed his wits about him when he went off to war, not dulled or softened like butter on toast because of this emotion.

"You won't be needing a sword or dagger," he smiled. I frowned.

"I don't understand," I shook my head.

"There are other ways to defend yourself, ways that need not be brutal," he said. I knew what he was getting at.

"But I –"

"This discussion is finished. We shall speak to the Naiads soon," he began walking back to Haeriel.

"Who?" I ran after him. He turned and caught my chin between his forefinger and thumb.

"Don't look so mad, Vhala, I haven't cheated you out of the mission you decided with Lucy," he chuckled. I listened to his words, only then realizing what he was doing for me. I threw my arms around his neck and held on like he was a lifesaver.

"Peter?"

"Yes?" he whispered in my hair, having wrapped his arms around my waist.

I smiled into his shoulder as I admitted this, feeling my cheeks flare with heat. "I find I'm very fond of you as well."


	10. Chapter 9: Daughters of the River God

**Chapter 9: Daughters of the River God**

Indeed did I find a way to defend myself: along with a small contingent of soldiers, Peter brought me inland, to the Great River. There he summoned the Daughters of the River God, Naiads, Maidens of Narnian Waters. The Great River was a sight to behold: strong, unruly, the white waters raging against the rocks. It reminded me very much of breakers upon the shores, and I felt at home.

The Naiads arose from the river, their watery forms both blue and clear, welcoming me into their ring. For the following weeks, the Great River was where I honed my new skill: to influence water at will. I could control the element with an already-owned skill: singing. Along with my training came history lessons as well. The Naiads were distant relatives to the Merfolk, having originated from the same source when Aslan sang Narnia into being. With this knowledge I was at ease, for I was familiar with Merfolk lore and the oceans.

I was grateful to Peter, not only for putting me on this particularly peaceful martial art, but helping me chase away my fear of the mainland.

I was up before the sun rose, riding toward the Great River with two soldiers with me. Trainings finished after the sun had set. I had my meals by the river with the soldiers, the forest folk and Naiads providing the provisions that it was unnecessary to pack or scout for food and drink.

My first marks came when I graduated from the basic teachings to the advanced dexterities. The symbols laced from my fingers, swimming up to my forearms, up to my shoulders: blue-silvery white swirling letterings of ancient Narnian languages that bespoke of fluidity, strength, adaptability, willpower, tranquility, and fury. Each symbol stung a burning brand upon my skin, a forever score on my person. But with each pain I gained supremacy and discipline over the water elements, control and precision a goal now at hand.

In my weeks of training I felt at home for I was surrounded by living, life-giving waters, yet I felt distant from the Royal Four. They too were busy with their training just as I have been. I knew I should have been glad by the achievements I accomplished with the Naiads, now confident that I could fend not only for myself but for others if needed, but I felt alone.

Finally the last day of my training came. I was forlorn, knowing that I wouldn't frequent the forest anymore, but I knew the Naiads were only a thought away if I ever needed their aid. Even if I just dipped a finger in any water source, my message would be delivered to them in an instant.

A change had come over me: I loved the forests now. No longer did I feel the claustrophobic sensation, but more of a comforting blanket around me.

It was nearing dinner when a Vision appeared before me. It had been weeks since I last saw one, having been mentally and physically exhausted from each training session I immediately fell into deep sleep the moment I arrived in my bedchamber. It was a Vision of a land south of Narnia, of a kingdom beyond a mountain pass. The castle and villages weren't as big or grand as that of Cair Paravel, but they were just as colorful, a palette of rich reds, woody browns, evergreens, and happy yellows adorning the citizens. There was something about the way they moved, the way they walked that looked so familiar. Then the Vision showed a throne room, a king and queen. The king was a fair-skinned corn-haired individual, the queen was a mahogany-complexioned and deep black-purple haired that ran past her waist. They were talking, and the way they looked at each other suggested a great love. I turned back at the king; why did he look so familiar?

Just then King Edmund rounded the corner that led to the Great Hall. "Ah, Vhala! We were about to search for you. We were informed that today was your last training session with the Naiads, and we're holding a feast in your honor."

"In my honor?" I repeated, confused. "Why?"

"To be honest we've missed your company. We know the concentration and exhaustion that comes with training, so we didn't push that you attend any functions during your teachings with the Naiads. But now that they're finished, we're celebrating your return!" he smiled.

I smiled back. So I wasn't the only one feeling that way.

The Vision still held in front of me, and Edmund noticed it. "Ah, King Cor and Queen Aravis of Archenland."

"Archenland?" I looked at the couple more closely. Could it be that this king was a kin?

"I would imagine that Cor is a relative of your mothers, therefore yours as well," said Edmund. I smiled at his words; he remembered my tale.

"I would like to meet him one day," I admitted as the Vision shivered and disappeared.

"That day may be soon, for I will travel to Archenland before the armies march to the Western Woods. Celuxzia and I will wed."

"Oh, a wedding!" I clapped.

"That's to be my announcement during the feast. Since you're the first I told, I ask that you not tell," he requested. I nodded in reply. "Well then, shall we dine, princess?" he offered his arm to me, and I accepted. As soon as we entered the hall the court stood up and cheered. I expected to go to my usual seat with the other nobles, but tonight I was at the high table. From left to right were King Edmund, Queen Susan, High King Peter, me, and Queen Lucy. I was too shocked to say a word. What was going on?

"Tonight," began King Peter. "We welcome back Princess Vhalanaese to our court. Her absence has made us miss her dearly, and her sacrifice has been great. See the glowing characters on her arms," he indicated. The symbols easily bore through the thin gauzy long sleeves, making the swirls more translucent and ethereal. As if on command the swirls flared on their own, eliciting a chorus of sighs from the hall. "These signify that she has indeed succeeded in her training with the Naiads. Now we have one more protector of Narnia in our numbers!"

King Peter raised his goblet and the court followed suit. I reached for mine. My eyes rested on a fountain just outside the western doors that led to the gardens. I suddenly ached to see the Naiads. An instant later they appeared, rising from the fountain and walked into the hall.

"They're here!" I whispered to Peter, smiling at the direction of the Naiads. He raised his goblet to them.

"To the Daughters of the River God!" he cheered. The court repeated his cheer. Then he raised his goblet to me. "To Princhess Vhala!" As the court cheered he took my hand and raised it to his lips. "How I have missed you."

"And I you," I blushed. He helped me into my seat and the court took theirs.

But before the dinner could commence, King Edmund remained standing and called for their attention. "There is something I would like to say…"

* * *

_**Author's Note:**__ It's been a while. I know it. You know it. It's because I've been studying. Not really back into school, for I've already graduated college last March. More of a home-schooling / self-studying session for the past months. My uncle decided to take me in as his student and teach me a thing or to (more like a LOT of) about marketing. Information overload in a sense, but I enjoyed the learning very much. Exhausting, yes, but it was well worth the sleepless nights and endless reading materials that he kept giving me. Not to mention putting into practice what I learned so I could prove to him that I indeed learned what he was teaching me. That meant little-to-no writing time. Only now was I able to re-enter this fan-fiction. Holidays, so I was given a reprieve of some sort from all those books and manuals._

_I'm sorry for letting this stay unfinished for so long. I thank you all who have read and reviewed this story. _

_Happy Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year to you, fanfiction readers!_

_All the best for 2011 for you, me, and us._

_Cheers!_

_God bless._

_Sincerely,_

_Lady Saffron of Xybria (LSoX)_

_P.S. I got the idea of the swirling characters on her hands and arms from my recent Henna tatoos._


	11. Chapter 10: Archenland

**Chapter 10: Archenland**

All things have two purposes. If not two, more than two, but never just one.

The ride to Anvard was eventful, a large party leaving Cair Paravel with King Edmund and Queen Lucy. High King Peter and Queen Susan remained at the castle, tending to affairs needed, but promised to be present at King Edmund's wedding. The forest was a welcome embrace, the tall trees bending their boughs to keep the high noon soon from our skin. With ever step that brought us closer to Anvard, Narnians of every creature saluted and wished our journey well.

We reached Anvard's gates by nightfall. King Cor and Queen Aravis themselves received us, immediately showing us into the dining hall for our meal.

As the royal family conversed, I held back, slowing my pace to blend in with the other nobles. Why did I feel apprehensive? And of what?

My eyes gazed at the tapestries covering the halls, all of which were hunting scenes. They were colors of rich brown, warm reds, and vivid greens, huntsmen on steeds with their dogs before them, spears at the ready as they raced on. But one tapestry caught my breath, my eyes glued to the individual portrayed. All things in the tapestry were in motion, but the model was statue-still. The artist captured the taught muscles, the slim fingers clasped around the feathered tip of the arrow, the sharp clear eyes, concentrated focus, and above all, the form and posture suggesting years of training as a marksman.

"I see you've found your mother," came a voice behind me. I didn't turn. Couldn't turn, my attention fastened on the tapestry.

"Mahmah," was all I could say.

"She was the best archer of Archenland. She taught Queen Susan herself," the person continued.

"She did?" I was in awe. Mahmah never mentioned anything of that sort. Neither did Queen Susan. "She never told me that." I turned to the person next to me and it was as if the Vision I saw had turned life-sized: King Cor.

"Princess Asta, now Queen Asta of Terebinthia," he nodded at the tapestry. "I am Cor, your second cousin," he held out a hand to me. I slowly placed my hand in his. He brought my hands to his lips in greeting.

"King Cor," I began, still in shock at his revelation about Mahmah. "I'm confused. I know Mahmah was a skilled markswoman, but why didn't she mention that she was the best? Or that she taught Queen Susan of Narnia how to wield one?"

"Let us walk, and I shall try to explain," he offered me his arm. I took it. I wasn't aware of the surroundings, only the words the king spoke. "When Asta was young, she loved to hunt. She honed her skills, determined to be among the best, and she did indeed become one of them. Then came the time the Prophecy of the Golden Age of Narnia came true. As tribute and offering of friendship, the household of Anvard traveled to Cair Paravel to greet the Two Sons of Adam and Two Daughters of Eve. At that time she was already Queen of Terebinthia, but as part of the royal family of Archenland, she had to make the journey to represent not only Archenland, but also Terebinthia. I was still Shasta, not Prince Cor. Corin was ill that time so our father King Lune didn't make the journey.

"Asta stayed a time in Cair Paravel, and upon finding out that Queen Susan wielded the bow and arrow, she personally trained the queen. Now, about not telling you about her stay in Cair Paravel, I would imagine it had something to do with the Seers of your court," he looked at me expectedly.

"What? I don't understand…" I shook my head. He patted my arm.

"Before returning to Terebinthia, she visited me. She mentioned a Prophecy concerning you, something her Court Seers saw: you or your cousin Therine would be aligned with a mainland king. By mainland she didn't know if it meant Narnia, Archenland, or Aslan-forbid, Calormen. She was resolute not to mention anything related to mainland subjects, thinking that by doing so your interest in the mainland would never happen. But," he sighed. "A prophecy is a prophecy."

My breath was stolen for the second time that evening. I couldn't believe it… Mahmah gave up everything! Her love for the hunt, returning to the mainland, to even visiting her home just so she could protect me against a prophecy coming true, from trying to ward off any possibility that Terebinthia would ever be aligned with Calormen.

Memories of Mahmah suddenly breaking down in tears, or whispers she thought were unheard raced through my mind.

"_It's my fault!"_

"_If you hadn't met me in the woods… if only I hadn't chased after the White Stag!"_

"_Iranae is right: Terebinthia shouldn't have a mainland queen…"_

"She can't," I shook my head, stopping in my steps, looking at Cor. "She can't possibly blame herself for something like this happening to me? If there's one thing I learned about having the Talent to See is that we have little to no choice when Aslan's Will unfolds. We are but pebbles in an ocean! We only see a second of what Aslan sees an eternity. Oh, Mahmah!" I sobbed, not even wanting to comprehend the pain she must have lived through. Words would do no justice to that kind of heartbreak.

"Quiet your fears, cousin," assured Cor. "Through letters she sent to me, she informed me the moment your Vision confirmed it was you who would be wed to a Narnian king. But with glad tidings came another sorrowful one: you would never return to Terebinthia."

"That is true," I heaved a heavy sigh.

"She also bade me that when you come to Archenland, to show you her home, something she always wanted to do but could not."

"Perhaps she still can," I forced a weak smile. "She intends to return to Archenland as soon as Paphi is well. She wants to show him her home too." At that moment, a Vision swam before my eyes, the spherical bubble appearing before Cor and me. It was of Aravis! Holding something in her arms…

"A baby!" laughed Cor. His laugh sounded so much like Mahmah's, I couldn't help but join in. "Pray tell, is it a boy or girl?"

"I know the gender, but I shant tell," I smiled. "I believe that's something Aravis should reveal herself." We entered the dining hall and approached the high table. King Edmund and Prince Corin rose from their chairs; Queens Lucy and Aravis remained seated but smiled in welcome.

"Brother, Wife, may I present our cousin, Princess Vhalanaese of Terebinthia," introduced King Cor. Prince Corin walked around the table and stood before me, greeting me the same fashion King Cor did earlier. They were mirror images!

"Welcome to Anvard, Princess," smiled Corin as he led me to a seat next to Lucy.

On my way, Queen Aravis stood up and opened her arms to me. "Welcome, Vhalanaese," she embraced me.

"Thank you," I replied. "Aravis, that sounds…"

"Yes, I am from Calormen, but that country is gone to me. I fully intended to run away, and was successful. As you can see," she laughed. I sighed in relief. I mentally told myself that she was an Archenlander now, _not_ a Calormene Tarkheena anymore.

"Beloved wife," said King Cor. "Vhalanaese had a Vision just now, and it showed of you holding an infant."

"Oh!" Queen Aravis blushed and clapped at the same time. "Then I _am_ pregnant! Oh I knew these constant meal cravings aren't me; it's the babe growing within me," she laughed. She walked to King Cor and embraced him. At that moment King Cor announced to the whole court the news, a roaring cheer resounded through the halls as goblets were thrust into the air in toasts.

Despite the loudness and jovial atmosphere, my attention was on Cor and Aravis. No Vision needn't tell me how much they loved each other. It was beautiful to behold. This _must_ have been the kind of love Paphi and Mahmah shared, for them to be so strong and turn away even the very things they held dear in their life to protect that love… their family.

Would I ever have that kind of love?

* * *

_**Author's note:**__ Boss had me working late last night, six nuptial videos and photo-shoots blogged and submitted by morning. I forgot to mention: aside from studying marketing with my uncle, I work as a part-time blogger for a videography / photography company. _

_I goofed up in the last chapter. I meant Cor but I had written Corin. Cor was Shasta, and he's the king. Corin remains a prince. I edited that part already. Sorry for the mishap._

_Happy New Year, everyone!_

_Cheers!_

_Keep safe,_

_Stay cool._

_LSoX_


	12. Chapter 11: No Turning Back

**Chapter 11: No Turning Back**

A wedding, family reunion, revelation of a past, and now… fleeing from a pain. The stay in Archenland was first three-fold, but now it was four.

A Vision came again, in the form of a dream-mare. I knew I was asleep and couldn't break out of it. It was of a future. And in that future was the White Stag.

I'm riding Reol deep inland, following the course of the Great River. North then West, into lands I'm unfamiliar with. Grasslands morph into woods, the trees growing thicker with each gallop. A beaver's dam crosses a narrow part of the river, cinching the flow. I want to pull Reol's reins to halt him, but my hands clasp air: no reins!

Further in he races. Suddenly I hear other noises, footfalls of steeds. Four. And their riders upon them: two males, two females.

The Kings and Queens of Narnia!

They pull ahead as something glimmers before us. I see the antlers, knowing that sight too well from childhood tales. The royals don't see me as they laugh and try to outpace each other, each promising that he or she would catch the White Stag and have his or her wish granted.

_No!_ I wanted to scream, knowing that encounters with the White Stag meant life-changing consequences. Look at what happened to Mahmah. What could the White Stag want with the royals, _all four _of them?

They stop all of a sudden, standing before a strange tree. It was black, and its topmost tip carries live fire inside, a lamp. Vines and creepers of flowers wind and wrap around its bark. Is it a tree?

"A dream within a dream," sighs Queen Lucy as she approaches the tree. "Spare Oom!" she suddenly gasps then runs in the opposite directions. The three race after her. I jump off Reol and follow. The branches became so thick I can't see King Edmund anymore.

Suddenly… silence.

No more footsteps, no more breathing, not even the branches rustle with movement. As if they were never there.

"No, no," I run forward, but the branches won't let me through. Something hits against my ankles. I stare down in horror: _their coronets and crowns._

_Where did they go? _I cry in my mind as I reach down and lift Peter's crown, still warm.

"Where they go you cannot follow. Your task is close at hand, Queen Vhalanaese. You must take the lead and free the Narnians," a voice whispers and rumbles at the same time. I slowly turn, knowing before I see who speaks to me.

"White Stag," I shudder, his brightness blinding. "Why did they leave? Abandon Narnia?" I wail. I hug the crown to my chest, the sharpened ends pricking my palms. "Abandon me…" I shake.

"They are needed back in their world. Now you are needed in Narnia, Queen Vhalanaese," he dictates. I lift my eyes at him, but I don't see him. Instead I see the Vision that caught me off-guard when I was with Lucy on the training grounds.

The fire, the blood, Narnians caught in between two forces from the Sea and from the Western Mountains. The destruction, death, the _screams_!

"How could you allow the Kings and Queens to leave when an apocalypse is coming?" I cry, the tears both from fear and anger.

"There are great many things you are not yet ready to understand, among them the Deep Magic that runs through the very veins of Narnia, the very force that giveth you the Talent to See. This much I will say to you: lead the Narnians to Archenland before the White Witch awakens from her imprisonment. Her coffin lies broken, her faction having found it. It lies deep below Narnian soil. When she awakens, nothing in Cair Paravel will prevail."

That declaration was painful to bear. But I had to ask one more question.

"What of these armies I see in my Vision?"

"That question is not ready to be answered, but there will come a time you will understand the importance of the Telmarines. Now awaken. Speak not of this dream to anyone or act against it. Aslan's Will is above all."

I shot out of bed, running to the windows expecting to see the ocean, but all I saw was forest. It took me a moment to realize I wasn't in my bedchamber in Cair Paravel, but in Anvard.

I paced the dim room, finally sinking to the floor, welcoming the cold bite of the stone against my cheek and chest. I shuddered with dread, terrified by what the Vision revealed. It was all too much too soon to understand, as if I ate too much spiced fruits before realizing my mistake, already halfway swallowing; there was no turning back.

Time eluded me, but the skies started to lighten. Still I remained on the floor, not wanting to move, not wanting time to move forward. I just wanted to disappear, evaporate, and stop existing.

The last reason why I wanted to come to Anvard: to try and escape the pain of knowing that the man I had finally come to learn to love would one day… be gone.


	13. Chapter 12: They Never Lie

**Chapter 12: They Never Lie**

Time ran forward. It was cruel, like a child stealing an apple from the tree and taking a noisy bite from it, staring you down as if daring you to take the apple back.

I came to find out the place where the Vision happened: Lantern Waste. I saw it on the maps spread out on the tables in the main hall, King Edmund going over battle plans with King Cor. Archenland was going to aid Narnia in pushing back the Westernese, beyond Lantern Waste and the alpine Western Mountains, beyond Cauldron Pool and the Great Waterfall. I was familiar with these bodies of water, the Naiads having taught me what sourced the Great River.

I also came to find out the name of that strange tree: lamppost. Queen Lucy was entertaining a small group of Archenland children, telling the tale of how she and her sister and brothers had first entered Narnia through a wardrobe in a place called Spare Oom.

_Oh Visions_, I moaned. They were always true. They never lied. That would mean…

My thoughts retraced the dream, back to the White Stag. His command still echoed through my thoughts. But two words rang louder than the rest. It was like an angry crash of high waves breaking on land. But he had said it, and it was in the Vision. No question that it was indeed to become a reality.

Me.

He had called me.

_Queen Vhalanaese._

_

* * *

_

_**Author's note:**__ My last chapter post for 2010. _

_Keep safe,_

_Stay cool, _

_Cheers!_

_Happy New Year._

_LSoX_


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